I'll Stay
by MarauderRiss88
Summary: The bond between a Godfather and his Godson is a phenomenal one. Through the years, if there's anything that can be known with certainty, it's that Sirius Black will stay, no matter what, with his Godson. No slash, godfather-godson bonding fic. AU, Sirius doesn't die, and he raises Harry. T for slight language.
1. Of ambushes and baby Potters

Disclaimer: Believe me, if it was mine, you would just _know_ it.

A/N: Okay, my first foray into the HP fandom! *scuffs sneaker against the floor*. Hullo!

First's first, this is **very incredibly AU.** In my mind, Sirius never died, and in this little set of instances, he raised Harry too.

Secondly, I've got no clue about how babies are supposed to act and how much they're allowed to know, so I apologize profusely if my portrayal is far from realistic! Hehehe (-_-)

Lastly, this will have several short-ish chapters, all fairly sweet and just generally instances where Harry needed his Godfather around. I've written most of them, so updates should be fairly quick.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

###

 _ **June 19**_ _ **th**_ _ **1981**_

Sirius Black stared almost uncomprehendingly at the official looking parchment in his hands.

 _No…not true. It can't be true. It…it's not true._

 _I just left them to finish the clean-up…Death Eaters_ _ **never**_ _come back to the scene…_

He, for the most part, felt like he ought to be yelling and destroying everything around him in a childish fit of temper, until someone told him that this was all a stupid prank played by some stupid prat who had no concept of where to draw the line.

Instead, he felt curiously hollow. As though he had been sucker-punched and it was only by sheer force of will that he was still standing.

He was barely aware of the words that were being directed at him from his best friend and brother. He was no more aware of his newfound sister, when her voice joined in, than he was of Prongs'.

Just background noise to the deafening sound of denial that was roaring in his ears.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. The man and women…the team of three that he had seen just two hours ago…all gone. Granted, he had only met them recently, but he had come to hear about their families. The ones they were now leaving behind. And he would have been there to help, except that this mission had been a close call, and he wanted to reassure Prongs and Lils and baby Harry that _everything was okay…_

The letter slipped from his numb fingers and he moved to the door on autopilot, feeling the overwhelming need to leave. That part of him that was primed to shout and rage was coming quickly to the forefront, and really, nobody needed to bear witness to that.

He made his way swiftly to the door, knowing James would be reading the letter and knowing that there was a very small window of opportunity for him to leave without the Potters trying to stop him.

He didn't quite count on the littlest bundle of Potter.

"Pa'foo."

It was that single uttered word, from a sleepy baby, that penetrated Sirius' bubble of anguish. If it were any other time, he knew James would have been insufferable about the fact that he responded only to his baby Godson's voice.

Slowly, he turned around, eyes still facing downwards even as Lily stepped closer to him. He wasn't sure whether he didn't want to see the pity on her and James' faces, or whether he didn't want _them_ to see the broken look on _his_.

Maybe Lily sensed something like that – she was always the most perceptive of them – because instead of trying to meet his eyes, or offer some meaningless platitude, the stunning redhead simply handed him the baby that had called out for him moments before.

Sirius looked up enough to see that baby Harry, instead of cuddled against his mother and close to sleep, was now blearily awake, both arms reaching out to him in a silent demand to be taken. Clearly, the baby didn't care for Sirius' intention to spend the night three sheets to the wind.

He reacted instinctively, arms going to lift and cradle the baby to his chest, as he had done plenty of times before. Harry smiled at him, all softness and warmth and love and comfort, before snuggling deep into the dog animagus' chest, his little face buried in the side of Sirius' neck.

"Pa'foo?"

Wide, sleepy green eyes seemed to plead with him, for what, Sirius couldn't say. But all at once, the sound somehow returned to the room, and the icy blanket of pain that wrapped him slowly dissolved, leaving behind a dull, throbbing hurt.

Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath, finding himself, his composure, and his footing in those emerald orbs.

"Alright, Prongslet…it's okay," he managed to murmur roughly. "I'm here now. I'll stay."

###


	2. Of losses and Godfatherly duties

Disclaimer: Still wishing, still not happening.

A/N: Thanks for the response to the initial post! Like I said, most of this is done already, save for the last two parts, so I'll be trying to update quickly.

Another short chapter, but I promise the next ones will get longer! It's a bummer that Harry can't talk much yet, lol!

Hope y'all enjoy!

###

 _ **October 31**_ _ **st**_ _ **1981**_

 _Gone…they're all gone…my family…my brother, and my little sister, in all but blood…my Godson, my Harry…_

 _And Peter!_

 _He was our best friend…he betrayed us, betrayed us all…how could I have been so stupid?_

Half-crazed and out of his mind with grief and agony, Sirius dropped to his knees, barely aware of the low, keening sound that was being ripped from his lips.

Revenge. He needed to get revenge. He needed to make that damn traitorous rat pay! Pay, for betraying his family, killing three of the people who meant the whole world to Sirius, next to Moony, and…

"Mama! Wan' daddy!"

 _Harry? Is it possible…oh, please…oh, Harry, please,_ _ **Merlin**_ _, please…_

A tumultuous mixture of emotions just about shredded Sirius' chest. He stumbled through the wreckage in the lawn, following his Godson's cries to the hallway of the now-destroyed Godric's Hollow abode, sobbing out loud when he found Hagrid holding the crying bundle gently in his arms.

He fought not to look around him at the place that was more his home than his apartment in London. He knew if he did, that he wouldn't have the strength to stay standing.

All he could do, was focus on the baby.

He held out his hands, trying to dial down the desperation he knew was in his tone. "Give Harry to me, Hagrid," he demanded, Harry's screams all but ceasing at the sound of his voice. " _I'm_ his Godfather. I'll take care of him."

Compassionate eyes met his, but Hagrid didn't hand the child to him. "M'sorry, Sirius," the giant man rumbled softly. "Dumbledore's orders, yeh know. I'm ta' bring li'ttle Harry straigh' ta' him at N'mber 4 Privet Drive."

All sorts of protests filled his throat, but none of them made it to his mouth. He ached to hold Harry close, reassure his baby Godson that everything was going to be okay, and that he was going to take care of him…

…but if he held off on that for a few hours…well, then he could get _Pettigrew_. Avenge his family and make that rat suffer before he ranted at Dumbledore to get custody of Harry over those despicable muggles.

Before he could consciously decide, the words were tumbling from his mouth. "Take my bike, Hagrid." For a second, he remembered Lily's dislike of his prized bike, loathe now to raise Harry in its presence at the risk of disappointing her. "I won't need it anymore," he added weakly.

He turned around to leave, his hand brushing the doorframe that he vowed he would never cross again, when he was stopped by the only thing with the power to do so.

"Pa'foot."

Despite Harry's considerable screaming a few seconds ago, his name emerged from the baby's lips in little more than a whimper. Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, and the heart that seemed to stop beating when he found the home in shambles, somehow started up again, brought back to life by the voice of the one who needed him, and who he undoubtedly needed in return. The agony that took up residence deep in his soul didn't leave, but it warred with a budding sense of love, of Godfatherly – and who was he kidding, to an extent even _fatherly_ – obligation and responsibility.

Suddenly, the burning need to obliterate the pathetic, pesky Peter Pettigrew wasn't as important as tending to the baby that had stubbornly wriggled out of the blanket covering him. Harry was leaning against Hagrid's chest, looking afraid to reach out to him the way he always did, though not without a want to do so.

Wide green eyes filled with tears fixed on his, a now familiar plea there. Fear and confusion and need shone in the features he took from Lily.

"Pa'foot."

The second whimper, sounding more like an ardent plea he hoped never to hear again from the baby, was more than Sirius could possibly take. Tears flowed freely from his eyes and he turned and stumbled forward. Harry, seeming to take this as permission, stretched out little hands, his cries renewing with the assurance that he wasn't going to be left alone. Not unsurprisingly, Hagrid's heart of gold won out, and he didn't resist when Sirius pulled baby Harry to nestle into the warm, safe cocoon of his arms.

The baby's crying stopped, but little sniffles still sounded, muffled from Harry's position against his chest.

"Alright, Prongslet," he choked out between his silent sobs. "It's okay, I'm here now. I'll stay."

###


	3. Of funerals and disgusting relatives

Disclaimer: I figured third time was the charm. It wasn't. Still not mine!

A/N: Again, thank you for the response! Quicker update than usual because I write an exam tomorrow, but hope y'all enjoy!

Thanks especially to the kind reviews left by guests that I couldn't respond to!

Shout-out to the guest reviewer that totally called Sirius being dosed with Veritaserum ;-)

###

 _ **November 5**_ _ **th**_ _ **1981**_

It was a close call.

Dumbledore almost wouldn't listen to him, and he almost ended up the lucky winner of a lifetime trip to Azkaban, but after five days, a dose of Veritaserum and hours of interrogation and paperwork, they finally straightened everything out.

Sirius thought there was a real possibility that he'd spared all the liquid he could, crying his eyes out and mourning the loss of two of his family members, but of course, standing at their graves, he was proven woefully wrong. Moony was no better off than he was, but at least he wasn't ignoring everyone who tried to convey their sympathies.

Sirius had long since decided that there was only one person outside of Moony that he could bear to acknowledge today.

His Godson, taken in temporarily by Lily's sister and her family, would be leaving the funeral with him and Moony today, to Potter Manor. The wards were the strongest outside of Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had assured them that, with the additional Potter wards, Harry would be as much protected there as he would have been with the blood wards around Petunia's house.

His chest ached with the need to hold his Godson close, cuddle the child that was the only thing left of Lily and James Potter. He glanced periodically around them, searching out Petunia Dursley with the keen eye of an experienced Auror.

When she finally came in, _alone_ , Sirius wasn't sure whether to be scared or furious.

As it was, it was probably a good thing that there was only 15 minutes left of the well-attended funeral.

When the proceedings came to a close, he touched a kiss to his fingertips before placing them on the joint headstone.

 _I'm sorry, Prongs, brother…dear Lils…I'm so sorry. I promise I'll love him and take care of him the way you wanted me to. I love you both…so much._

Before he could lose his fleeting grip on composure, he turned on his heel, heading for Petunia. He nodded courteously, trying for Lily's sake not to be as brash as he wanted to be.

"Where's my Godson?" he asked quietly. "I'd like to take him away today. We can talk about visits and such whenever it suits you, I assure you I won't think of denying you part of his life, so I think…"

Petunia shook her head, barely favoring him with a glance. "The brat is at home with my husband and my son. You can fetch him today, the sooner the better, and I hardly think it's necessary to communicate further. I would rather my son not be exposed to him, or any of your kind."

Boiling rage started to burn at the pit of his stomach – not for himself, or wizarding kind, but for the innocent baby; his sweet Godson; who she was disparaging – and it was by some miracle that Moony was suddenly there, a restraining arm on his elbow that stopped him reaching for his wand. He wondered idly whether he would be thanking the werewolf later for stopping him, or cursing him for it. Probably the former, if history were anything to go by. Not that he would admit it.

"Thank you, Petunia," he said before Sirius could throw caution out the window and act on his angry impulses. The normally polite and friendly tone of the werewolf was noticeably absent. In fact, Remus was positively _cold_ , making Sirius realize that he too had heard the vile woman talk about their Prongslet like that. "We'll actually head there right now." Moony quickly steered him away and Sirius relented, albeit ungracefully.

"We should introduce that repulsive woman to my equally repulsive mother," he fumed irritably.

Lupin glanced at him askance. "As much as they're _both_ despicable pieces of work, Petunia is still a muggle," he pointed out. "Your mother would hex her into next week."

Sirius bobbed his head without smiling. "That was my point."

Moony managed a brief, weak smile, but it was gone so fast that Padfoot wondered whether he had imagined it. He quickly decided that it didn't matter; all that mattered now, was getting to his Godson.

They apparated, by silent and mutual agreement, to the driveway of Number four, Privet Drive. As soon as he gathered his bearings, Sirius became glad that they wasted no time in fetching baby Harry.

"Be _quiet_ , you insufferable little _freak_!"

Thanks to Padfoot and Moony's enhanced senses, the hissed words came to them loud and clear. The already festering anger in his gut multiplied tenfold and Sirius clenched his fists, making half-moon indentations on his palms from his nails.

They moved as one, neither of them wanting to leave their Harry with that atrocious muggle any longer than he already had been. Through the window, Sirius glimpsed a silently crying Harry, his heart breaking at the fear that never should have been on the face of his little Godson.

The look was quickly replaced though, as Harry caught sight of them too. Instantly, happiness and infinite love shone on the baby's face, even through his tear-filled eyes.

"Pa'foot!" he cried out, clapping his hands excitedly. For the first time since that night, warmth found Sirius' heart. "Moony!"

The friends shared a small, but far more genuine smile, and suddenly, it looked like things might someday be okay again.

"I said, be _quiet!_ "

The sound of the man combined with the threatening, looming stance he held over their defenseless Prongslet, instantly turned their expressions dark. As one, they strode quickly to the door, their grief taking up the backs of their minds as it gave way to anger. Neither Marauder bothered with the courtesy of knocking.

Surprisingly, it was Remus who flicked his wand somewhat violently, slamming the door open and almost shattering it. By another unspoken agreement, the two friends decided that Sirius would retrieve Harry, while Remus dealt with the muggle.

Merlin knew that Sirius was far too close to hitting him with a dozen hexes simply on principal.

Picking Harry up and cradling his Godson to his chest felt like a small piece of Sirius had been returned to him. For the first time since that dreadful night, a hazy sort of calm descended upon the grieving man.

"Hey, love…I've got you, Padfoot is here," he crooned, nuzzling Harry's nose with his own. "Don't be scared, love, I promise I'm not going to leave you again."

Harry smiled brilliantly at him, squealing his delight and throwing small arms around his neck in response.

"Pa'foot!" The address was spoken with equal parts of distress and admonishment and question; Sirius clearly heard what his Godson couldn't articulate. _You left me_ _ **alone**_ _and these people were_ _ **awful**_ _! Why did you leave me, Padfoot? Will you go away again?_

Tears stung the back of his eyes and Sirius pulled back enough to press kisses all over Harry's cherubic face. The peal of laughter that reached his ears healed another tiny piece of his heart. He looked into the big green eyes of the boy that was his son in all but blood.

"Alright, Prongslet, it's okay. I'm here now," he stated quietly. "I'll stay."

###


	4. Of toddlers and suspicious characters

Disclaimer: Only in my wildest dreams, and even then sometimes not (-_-)

A/N: Longer chapter, finally! Again, I apologize for anything that's unrealistic and any inconsistencies!

Thanks again for the sweet and supportive responses! I so appreciate it!

Hope y'all enjoy!

###

 ** _August 13_** ** _th_** ** _1984_**

"Siwi!"

Sirius chuckled as he was ambushed at the door by a flying blur of black and red and gold. He caught his Godson with practiced ease, swinging him up against his chest to the sound of infectious giggling.

Harry was decked out in full Gryffindor attire and sporting a huge grin, his untamable black hair flopping around – and partially over – excited green eyes.

"You was gone _fo'ewer_!" the toddler exclaimed, flopping his head dramatically on to Sirius' shoulder. Then, in a much quieter voice, "I _missed_ you."

The dog-animagus laughed lightly, but there was no mistaking the absolute tenderness in his soft eyes. "I missed you too, pup," he replied, nuzzling the four-year-old's cheek. "Was everything okay with Moo…Uncle Remus?" he caught himself at the last second. They were trying to get Harry into the habit of using their nicknames only in secluded settings, to avoid all the inevitable questions that Harry wouldn't be able to answer, and since they were at a loss at how to differentiate that to the toddler, they had decided to teach him to use their Marauder names only when they were completely alone. That included being away from the house elves, but that was more because the Potter elves were serving as their ' _society'_ for the indeterminable future.

His Godson's enthusiastic nodding brought Sirius back to the present. "Uh-huh!" Harry grinned at him, pride shining in his little face. "Uncle Wemus teached me somethin'!"

"Taught," Moony corrected with a warm smile as they came into the sitting room. Sirius shook his head with a wry smile, amused at the inherent teacher that resided within his friend. "Not 'teached', cub."

"Uh-huh!" the toddler chirped again, contentedly remaining in Sirius' arms even when he sat down. "Uncle Wemus tea… _taught_ me somethin'." Harry carefully repeated the word, smiling broadly when Lupin nodded approvingly.

"Well, what did Uncle Remus _taught_ you, pup?" Padfoot asked mischievously, only laughing when Moony reached over to flick his ear in reprimand.

Harry settled himself comfortably on Sirius' lap before turning solemn green eyes on him. A small frown of concentration marred his little forehead. "My name is Hawwy James Potter, and I'm fouw yeaws owd." With this statement, the toddler painstakingly arranged his hand, the tip of a little pink tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, until he held up four fingers to his Godfather. After a quick look at Remus for confirmation – who promptly smiled encouragingly, and nodded – Harry resumed his demonstration. "My daddy is James Potter, and my mummy is Wiwy Potter. You'we Siwius Owion Bwack, my Go'fathew, and this," Harry made grabby hands at Moony until the older man grasped his fingers, "is my Uncle Wemus John Wupin." Finally having relayed everything he had been told, Harry beamed at him, obviously proud of himself.

Sirius smiled widely, despite the pain that was stirred inside him at the mention of Lily and James. "Well done, pup! You're just the smartest of all of us, aren't you? But Uncle Remus better not have spent all this time making you learn!" he aimed a mock stern look at his friend.

"We read Harry's new book as well," Moony defended good-naturedly, at the same time that Harry protested in confusion,

"But I _wike_ wearning."

###

Hours later, when the house was quiet, Sirius was still marveling over how sharp-minded his Godson was. Moony had smiled indulgently at him when he was raving about it earlier – _I love Harry too, but 'far above average' intelligence doesn't translate to 'genius', Pads –_ but he was convinced that the Junior Marauder was going to grow up smarter than any of them could predict. Not only was the child quick on the uptake, but he was also observant (more than a toddler should be, at least) and he seemed to soak up knowledge like a sponge. No matter what Moony said, Sirius _wasn't_ being biased.

"You'd be so proud of him, Prongs," Sirius mumbled, an age-old ache in his heart. "Merlin knows I am."

"As well you should be."

It didn't do much for his reputation as an Auror – or as a Marauder – that the sudden voice caught him off-guard, making him yelp in a rather undignified way and leap up from his chair, wand in hand. He whirled around to see an amused face peeking at him through the fireplace.

He scowled half-heartedly. "Care to explain what you're doing in my fireplace, Lucky? And why you think you should _have_ , let alone _voice_ , an opinion on my Godson?"

The man in question smirked ingratiatingly. "I have come to repay my debt to you, Black. And as for young Harry, who _wouldn't_ have an opinion on the infamous _Boy-Who-Lived_?"

"Listen close, you insufferable little prat," Sirius snapped, the way Lucky spoke of his Godson grating on his nerves. "Harry is and always will be so much more than that ridiculous title. More to the point, I'd rather you not delude yourself into believing that there is any familiarity between you and _my_ Godson."

"Touchy, touchy, Black."

"What do you want, you git?"

Lucky tutted, infuriatingly calm. "So much name-calling, Sirius…alright, like I said, I'm trying to repay a debt to you. For what happened in Knockturn last year."

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he remembered the night Lucky was referring. "You owe me a debt for hiding you from your flavor of the week?" The animagus had honestly done that for his own amusement – aforementioned 'flavor' was one of his distant (yet not less loathsome) cousins – and hardly thought the action warranted repaying.

Even so, it seemed Lucky felt otherwise…

"Yes," the man nodded, a shade too quickly. "I may not be a man of many morals; or really, any morals at all; but I always pay back my debts."

Sirius felt the urge to point out that he was hardly owed a debt. Instead of wasting his breath, however, he decided to watch how this was going to play out. If he stayed on his game, he would undoubtedly get to the root of the shady man's dealings with him… by floo, in the middle of the night, no less.

He took on a level voice, tainted ever so slightly with a scorn, that would've made his pureblood, elitist family proud. "And you have something you think I want?"

"Ah," Lucky smiled slyly, "as my name suggests, Sirius, I often find myself with peculiarly good fortune. Which is, incidentally, how I came across something…or rather, some _one,_ who I think you'd be greatly interested in."

"Hmm." Sirius' tone became a notch more bored, still unconvinced. "Who might that be?"

Lucky smiled grimly as he sent an item through the floo fire. "Little Peter Pettigrew."

Like he probably intended, the name along with the monogramed pocket watch James had given the rat for his birthday all those years ago, prompted an instant reaction.

Sirius snarled something unintelligibly and probably would have yanked the slimy idiot by his collars if Lucky had been in front of him. "Where is he?" His disposition all but commanded an answer, and even the normally cool slicker faltered underneath the ferocity and rage that was suddenly present in his gaze.

"Wrapped up all nice for you," Lucky answered, again a little too quick, again a little too eager. This time, however, Sirius was caught up in his own buried anger and bloodthirst, and didn't quite register the suspicious behavior. "If you would just step on through the floo..."

Without a second thought, Sirius jumped to his feet, already halfway to the floo fire.

"Siwi?"

No one could deny that Harry James Potter had both the best, and the worst timing possible.

As he had many times before, Sirius stopped in his tracks, snapping back to rationality almost visibly. Harry was standing in the doorway, green eyes blinking owlishly at him, an almost timid look on his face. Hesitation that had rarely ever been shown by the boy now radiated off him, and Sirius recognized the uncertainty in his posture; that unmistakable look Harry adopted when he wanted desperately to be in his or Remus' arms, but was afraid of asking it of them.

The Auror didn't even hesitate to drop to his haunches and hold open his arms in silent permission.

The toddler immediately scampered across the distance between them, throwing himself into Sirius' arms and curling up on his knee, against his side. Sirius lifted him easily, shifting the tiny body until Harry's arms were around his neck, and his legs wrapped around Sirius' stomach like a spider-monkey, face tucked into his neck.

In that way his Godson always seemed to have, the limbs clinging to him and the soft breaths puffing against his neck made Sirius quell his temper and listen to the logical voice in his head, that for some reason sounded remarkably like Lily Potter.

 _Be reasonable now, Black! Lucky hardly owes you a debt, and even if he did, how could your keeping his sordid affairs a secret, possibly be equal to him aiding and abetting your murder of the rat?!_

Easy enough; it wasn't.

Finally, Sirius noticed the all-too eager gleam in Lucky's beady eyes. He tightened his hold on his Godson fractionally, his inner Lily Potter making one more appearance.

 _Lucky is such a weak wizard, he's all but a squib…so what, then, would his connection be to so many of the darkest pureblood families in Britain?_

"I'll be there in twenty, Lucky," Sirius found himself saying, his tone hard and flat. He fought the urge to soothe his Godson when the toddler gripped him tighter, a small hurt sound coming from the back of his throat. "I'll meet you at the pub in Knockturn."

The slimy face grinned at him, and as soon as he left the fire, Sirius wasted no time in conjuring his patronus and sending word to the hit Aurors.

He could deal with Pettigrew another day, another way. Tonight, the team on duty could handle it.

Tonight, he had someone far more important to care for.

"Padfoot?"

Harry's small voice held a familiar question, even muffled as it was by the fact that his Godson refused to let go of him for a second. Sirius turned his head and pressed a kiss to the crown of the toddler's head, against unruly black hair that he loved so much.

"Alright, Prongslet, it's okay," he crooned soothingly, his voice soft. "I'm here now. I'll stay."

###


	5. Of nightmares and silencing charms

Disclaimer: *Sighs* Do I even need to say it?

A/N: Thanks again for the follows, favorites, and reviews! And again, apologies for any inconsistencies!

Enjoy!

###

 ** _July 3_** ** _rd_** ** _1995_**

Something was _wrong._

Molly Weasley told him that he shouldn't look a gift hippogriff in the mouth. (" _Honestly, if there's_ _ **anyone**_ _that deserves a bit of a reprieve…"_ )

Cousin Andy told him that he was probably being his normally overprotective self. ( _"With good reason, of course, Sirius, I mean…I can hardly imagine…"_ )

Even Dumbledore told him that the mind tended to safeguard itself against trauma in mysterious and fantastic ways…and some other philosophical shite like that. ( _"Time, my boy…time is a wondrous thing, when given the opportunity to work."_ )

He promptly decided to ignore them all, because if there was anything he was sure of at that moment, it was that he _knew_ his Godson.

And Sirius Orion Black knew that _something was wrong._

Sirius remembered conjuring balls of turquoise light in the shaken eleven-year-old's room, when he came home after defeating the Voldemort-Quirrel (read: Moldypants-Squirrel) hybrid in his first year. Light, so he'd never have to feel the darkness close in on him, the way it did before he fell unconscious. And so that they could play with him and calm him down enough to fall back to sleep…or at least, help him find his way to Sirius' room.

Sirius also remembered casting weak heating charms on his scared Godson's floor and sheets after the horrifying encounter with Diary-Riddle and the basilisk in Harry's second year, so that the twelve-year-old's room never felt as cold as that creepy chamber had to have felt. And if he also charmed Harry's mirror to work in tandem with his own, much like the two-way mirrors, to alert him whenever Harry cried out in his sleep…well, then, who could blame him?

Another thing the dog-animagus could recall with almost startling clarity, was nights spent drinking hot chocolate and staying up till dawn with his distressed charge, telling him stories upon stories of his parents, hoping that each happy recollection could somehow cover over the sound of his parents' screams and pleas before they died. Harry never recanted those dreams to him, the selfless thirteen-year-old intent on sparing Sirius the pain that the dementors and an escaped Pettigrew brought him.

And now. Harry had been subjected to one of the most grueling, dangerous, deadly tournaments in Wizarding history, he had been shunned by his friends for a significant portion of it, and most devastatingly, he had been forced to witness the death – the _murder_ – of one of his peers. Been forced to participate in a ritual that brought his parents' murderers back to life. Been forced to duel a man who looped him a few times over in both age and experience, surrounded by enemies, with the very real likelihood that he was about to die, alone and in pain.

Sirius had been distraught the entire time that he had to listen to Harry recount the ordeal. He was torn between rage and grief, but aside from Harry clinging to him, sobbing, the entire night after it happened…nothing else happened.

No nightmares or needs for reassurances or requests for midnight chats…apparently.

Which is how Sirius knew something was wrong. Molly may have thought that Harry was simply being given a well-deserved break by Fate. Andromeda may have thought that Sirius was simply overreacting because he hadn't been able to be there for his Godson. Dumbledore may have thought that Harry would sort through his feelings and deal with his grief in his own time.

But Sirius was the one that had raised the boy. He was the one that knew Harry James Potter better than anyone in the world. And it wasn't adding up, the notion that Harry wasn't affected by the events of his horrific fourth year.

Remus was the only one who agreed with him. The werewolf respected how attuned Sirius was to Harry's emotions and needs. The fact that Moony positively _howled_ in the back of Remus' mind every time he saw his cub, only affirmed Sirius' conviction.

 _Really,_ Sirius thought as he paced in frustration in his room, _there's no way the kid is okay. Merlin knows I wish he was…but it's impossible!_ He huffed, irritably flicking his wand and casting a quick tempus charm.

03:11am.

He blew a gust of air through his teeth. _If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think he were casting silencing charms over himse…_

Sirius stopped abruptly, mid-thought.

 _Silencing charms._

He stood for a single minute, his horror mounting as he realized how much sense the theory made. Potter manor's wards would block Harry's magical signature, so the ministry wouldn't know he were practicing underage magic. The mirror was charmed to alert him when Harry cried out in his sleep…which wouldn't happen _if he cast a silencing charm_ _ **on himself**_ _._

It didn't take more than a second to make a decision; Sirius had to _know._

Taking off down the hall to Harry's bedroom, he slipped easily into the fourteen-year-old's room, casting a quick, _finite incantatem._

Sirius knew he would never forget the heart-wrenching sobs, broken pleas and strangled scream that suddenly became audible.

His heart shattering in his chest, the dog-animagus was at his Godson's side in a moment, sitting on the double bed, hands smoothing unruly hair and catching hold of Harry's flailing arm.

"Harry, wake up," he spoke quietly, attempting to keep a level voice. "It's just a nightmare, pup…come on, open those eyes for me. You're safe here, you're safe now, I've got you."

Sirius kept up his reassurances for a few minutes that seemed to stretch like hours before Harry awoke, gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he clutched and grabbed at his Godfather.

Without hesitation, the man gathered his charge in his arms, unabashedly pulling Harry tightly into his chest, halfway on his lap. After all the time he'd spent carrying the guilt and the grief and the nightmares and the terror, Harry simply held on, burying himself as close as possible to one of the few solid things in his turbulent world.

"It's okay, love," Sirius murmured, carding his fingers through the trademark Potter locks and using an endearment he hadn't used in a long time. "You're home now, it was just a nightmare…I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, love, I promise you."

"Not," Harry managed to get out, shaking his head vehemently. "S'not."

"What's not, love?" the Auror asked tenderly, nuzzling Harry's temple. "Talk to me, _please_."

Green eyes filled with anguish met his own. "A nightmare," he whispered miserably. "It's not _just a nightmare._ It _happened_ , Sirius. Voldemort is _back_ , he's alive, he's out for blood. Cedric is… _was_ , proof of that. And it's my fault, Sirius, all of it is! It's my fault that he came back, and it's my fault that Cedric is dead!"

" _No_ , pup," Sirius was aghast, " _no_. Don't even think that for a second! What happened to Diggory…Voldemort coming back…those were things you couldn't have _possibly_ prevented. You're a victim of what happened, pup, just as much as you're a survivor."

"I told Cedric to take the cup with me…"

"Because you're an honorable, noble, humble boy with a heart of gold," Sirius interrupted firmly. "You tried to do the right thing, pup. Your friend knew that, and I know he wouldn't have blamed you for what happened." Sirius pulled back far enough to peer down into exhausted emerald orbs. "You're _fourteen_ years old, Harry…just fourteen, and yet you so bravely faced down a man that wizards twice your age can't even address by name. You showed such a lot of courage and integrity…and I am so damn proud of you. Merlin, your parents would have been bursting with pride too! Right after they hexed Dumbledore and Crouch Jr straight into oblivion for making you go through that." Sirius earned the tiniest of smiles with that, and it felt like he'd won that lucky draw the muggles always went crazy over.

"Every time," Harry mumbled tiredly, "that I close my eyes, I'm living that night all over again. I'm there, and he is too, and every single night, Cedric d-dies…and I've got to swallow the guilt that he was there because some crazed death eater wanted _me_. Because _Voldemort_ wanted _me_. And that isn't even the end of it, because after that I still have to face him, and feel that Cruciatus curse, and think that I was gonna die there too, because I was alone and…"

His Godson broke off as Sirius tightened his arms around him. Trying to work past the horror that lodged in a ball in his throat, the Auror rocked his charge ever so slightly, and if Harry minded the action, he didn't show it.

"You're not alone, pup," Sirius finally settled, his tone filled to bursting with love. "Not now, not ever again. I'm not going to let you be, which means I want these silencing charms to stop too. I don't care if I need to get up every hour on the hour to wake you up from a nightmare; I'd sooner do that than have you shutting me out, okay?"

Harry nodded solemnly against his chest. "Okay."

"And I want you to stop thinking that anything was your fault," he added firmly, though he knew it would take more than a night for Harry to accept it. "You did the very best you could under awful circumstances, and let me tell you, it was a damn sight more than most of the wizards I know could have done."

His Godson nodded again, a little slower this time. "Thanks, Sirius."

He smiled lightly, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's hair; another thing he hadn't done since Harry was a toddler. "You hardly need to thank me, pup. But nevertheless, you are _most_ welcome."

"You know," Harry yawned, relaxing in his hold and all but snuggling into Sirius, "I saw mum and dad when my wand connected with Voldemort's."

The smile that had come onto his face with the realization that his Godson was falling asleep on him, slowly faded. Pain thrummed through him at the thought of how much that must have hurt his pup.

"Yes, pup," he eventually whispered, sighing slightly. "I know."

"They spoke to me." Harry's voice was taking on a slight slur, a clear indicator that sleep was close and he was barely aware of the words he was saying. "For a second, I thought how nice it would be to just let go, and then I'd see them again."

A strangled sound came from Sirius' throat and ice flooded his body at the very idea of his (still a baby) Godson thinking that. Before he could shake some sense into the boy, Harry spoke again.

"But then I thought of you. And I thought of Remus."

Sirius' heart stopped in his chest.

"I thought of how sad you'd be, and how much you both would miss me," the teenager continued, oblivious to the effect his words were having on his statue-still Godfather. "'Specially you. I always thought it was sort of you and me against the world…and I didn't want to leave you. D'you think they would have minded? That I wanted to stay with you?"

It was a few minutes before Sirius could fight past the lump in his throat and the tears that were falling from his eyes without his permission. "No, love," he finally managed to murmur roughly, his emotions and love for his Godson threatening to overwhelm him. "I think they would've thought you were just like them. And they know how selfish I am; they're gonna have to wait a long time to see you, pup. I'm not letting you leave me, not by a long shot."

Harry smiled again, looking safe and content for the first time since that awful night. Just before he fell asleep, the eminent question came.

"Padfoot?"

He smiled through his emotions and settled himself against the headboard for the night, pulling Harry's covers over both of them.

"Alright, Prongslet," he breathed comfortingly. "It's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay."

###

A/N: Merlin, this became so fluffy…nonetheless, hope it was enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought!


	6. Of scars and battles fought

Disclaimer: Not mine, and probably never will be.

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Exams were a real pain. Plus, this chapter wasn't really supposed to exist, but I couldn't just ignore the DOM scene!

Also, there might be a wait till the next update, as I haven't written that chapter yet, but I know what I want so hopefully it'll be quick.

Thanks once again to people who reviewed, followed or favourited!

Warning for slight language. Hope you enjoy!

###

 _ **June 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **1996**_

 _So still._

 _Merlin, he's so still._

The thought implanted itself in Sirius' mind as he fell heavily into a rather uncomfortable chair. He felt numb; cold all over, like a whole horde of dementors were feasting on him, leaching him of every good feeling he'd ever had.

His Godson was lying there in front of him, prone on a hospital bed, his skin almost as white as the sheets he rested upon. And he was _so fucking still_.

Harry was never still. He was never supposed to be still. He was always in motion, ever since he was a kid. Throwing an arm around Sirius. Flopping onto the couch, arms and legs akimbo. Sliding down the banisters and laughing as Remus scolded him. Positively hopping on the spot until he could get outside and mount his broom and shoot off into the air, giving them miniature heart attacks with his daring dives and seemingly effortless air-acrobatics. Even in sleep! By dream or by nightmare, he was always all over the place.

And yet here he was now, as unmoving as he was two days ago.

Sirius suppressed a snarl of frustration and anger as the night replayed itself in his mind…

 _Voldyshorts, the bastard, had planted a false vision in Harry's head, of Sirius in danger. It made him blindingly livid to think that Snake-Face had dared to invade his Godson's mind like that; had dared to taint the pure soul Harry had with his broken and twisted excuse for one._

 _When the Order sent word to him, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to kill Voldemort or Kreacher more._

 _Before rushing off, Remus told him, Harry had had enough sense to try Grimmauld Place, the new headquarters to the Order, after he had floo'd home to find Potter Manor empty. That blasted elf had taken sadistic pleasure in lying about where Sirius was, and when he realized that it was the catalyst for Harry willingly walking into danger? He was next to explosive with rage._

 _To say that he was homicidal when he finally got to the department of mysteries, would have been similar to saying that his dearly departed mother was mildly displeased at the existence of muggles._

 _He was loathe to admit it, but he felt a fierce burst of pride in the middle of all his anger. Dueling side by side with his son in all but blood, was equally terrifying and exhilarating. Though he feared any of the beams of light hitting his Godson, it had also filled him with burning pride to watch the natural ease with which Harry moved; the potent jinxes and hexes he sent with eerie precision, in a fashion that was both incredibly like, and unlike, James Potter. Confident, without being conceited. Powerful, without being cocky. Dominant, without being arrogant._

 _It had given him an entirely new understanding of the phrase_ _ **'quiet strength'**_ _._

 _They made a formidable team, him and Harry. Not surprising, given that they had always been close; had always known each other's quirks and could anticipate each other's moves. It was a vastly different kind of teamwork than he had with James, again, but if anything, he was prouder of this one; humbled by the stead in which Harry held him and determined to keep his charge from harm's way._

 _What he hadn't counted on, was his loving, brave Godson wanting to keep him from harm just as much._

 _Distracted in a moment by a Death Eater that had been aiming at Remus' back, Sirius failed to notice his dear cousin's stunner hurtling towards him._

 _Until he heard Harry's shout._

 _Felt the desperate shove as Harry's body collided with his own._

 _And then faced the heart-shredding sight of red light blasting into his Godson's chest._

 _The harsh, dull thump as Harry's prone form hit the floor, frighteningly close, but just short of the Veil of Death._

 _Sirius had never felt pain like that before in his life. He could hardly believe the enraged, yet simultaneously terrified shout that reverberated around them, to have come from his mouth. Everything stopped in that moment for him, as he reached a shaky hand to press two fingers to Harry's throat._

 _He couldn't help his strangled gasp of relief when he found a weak, thread-like pulse. And suddenly, he didn't care that they were in the middle of battle, nor that his back was unprotected as he cradled Harry against him, shielding his unconscious form from the chaos around them._

" _Hang on, pup," he pleaded, soft enough for only his Godson to hear. "Merlin, please, just hang on."_

 _Without his permission, words began falling from his lips; reassurances, pleas, mixed in with half-hearted threats and more than one bribe, on the off chance that his barely breathing Godson could hear him. And through the destruction and bedlam surrounding them, he never stopped, or let go of Harry._

 _Not when Dumbledore arrived, seconds after Voldemort himself._

 _Not when Remus started firing questions at him, fear taut in his tone._

 _Not even when Dumbledore grasped his shoulder and he felt the tell-tale squeeze of apparition._

 _He only found it in himself to let go when the medi-witches and healers gently, but insistently pried them apart, with the promise that they were going to take care of him._

 _And then he sunk into a chair in the waiting room, dropped his face into his hands and begged whoever might've been listening, not to take his precious Godson away from him._

 _He had never felt so relieved when they finally wheeled Harry into a room. Though it had pained him that Harry wasn't awake, and that he had to be admitted at all, it was definitely not as bad as it might have been. Given that Harry hadn't yet reached wizarding maturity, the healer in charge had told him, the stunner to the chest could easily have killed him. He especially thanked Merlin and all the stars in the sky when the healer treating Harry mentioned that they had, actually, almost lost him, and had to revive him while he was being treated_.

Sirius was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a patient man. That in itself lent perspective to how much Harry meant to him, since in two days, he had yet to leave Harry's room for anything longer than a daily fifteen-minute trip to the bathroom. Nobody had tried to remove him yet, for fear of their welfare, and in return, Sirius stopped himself from shaking Harry's healer for immediate answers.

"For the way he acts, and everything expected of him, it's quite sobering to be reminded just how young he is."

The Auror glanced up at Remus as he walked in. Moony was faring no better than he was, if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by. He too hadn't gone back home since Harry was admitted, but in the spirit of keeping both of them from getting admitted too, he had been out on food and drink runs. Wrapped up in their own worries over their charge, they hadn't really spoken much, preferring to sit in comfortable silence at Harry's bedside, so it threw Sirius for a moment, when the words were spoken.

"Yeah," he finally nodded, his voice croaky from lack of use. He cleared his throat as Remus took up his spot on the other side of Harry. "Merlin knows the kid hardly acts like we used to when we were fifteen."

For the first time in two days, Remus' mouth twitched, a ghost of his normal smile, but more than he'd done since Harry took that powerful stunner.

"Thank heavens for that," he commented ruefully, hands going to unnecessarily straighten the teen's blankets. "I don't think Lily would have been pleased if her son was…what was it she called James?"

Sirius smirked at the memory. "An arrogant little toe-rag," he provided, the hint of laughter in his tone. "It's probably for the best that Harry inherited Lily's level-headedness."

"Yes, well," Remus grinned, "he's got Prongs' loyalty though. And that damn overprotective streak to boot."

All at once, the memory of Harry pushing him out of the way and taking the curse meant for him, flashed behind his eyelids. He shuddered, his face losing what little color it had regained.

Remus, having immediately realized what his words were taken as, hastened to apologize. "Harry loves you like a father, Pads," he added softly. "He went there determined to save you, nothing you could have done would have made him think twice about taking that hex."

Sirius blew a breath through his teeth, reaching out to take Harry's hand. Though the teen couldn't feel or respond to him, it gave him comfort to have the tangible connection. "It's funny," he mumbled, "that he's a fifteen year old, shouldering the burdens and responsibilities most men three times his age can't deal with, and yet every time I look at him, I still see my tiny, baby Godson who demanded cuddles and called me 'Pafoo' because he couldn't pronounce much else."

Remus smiled. "He'll always be your pup," the werewolf stated understandingly. "I can relate, because he'll also always be my cub. I have to push Moony back most order meetings, he doesn't really like the way everyone expects Harry to take on Voldemort."

"I can't say I'm too pleased about it myself," the Auror remarked darkly. "Prongslet doesn't deserve to have all this on his shoulders."

"He handles it with surprising grace, though."

"He shouldn't _have_ _to_ ," Sirius was adamant. "He should be worrying about girls and quiddich and what N.E. to take. Not death, and about saving the wizarding world."

"That would be in an ideal world," Lupin agreed lightly. "But now Harry knows about the prophecy as well…you know he's going to make himself meet the expectations the Order has of him." A weary sigh escaped Remus as he reached out to hold Harry's other hand. "I wouldn't be surprised if…"

Sirius glanced at his old friend, wondering why Moony's words stopped abruptly. Remus was tracing his thumb over the back of Harry's hand, his face horror-struck. "If what?" he prompted.

The werewolf jerked, as if pulled from some kind of trance. "Pads…"

Sirius tried to quell the uneasy feeling in his stomach. "Moony," he returned, waiting expectantly for his friend to regain use of his words.

"What was it," he finally managed to ask, "that Harry told us Umbridge was making him write lines of, in his detentions?"

The Auror bristled at the reminder of the toad-like woman that had given his pup so much grief. "I must not tell lies," he recalled with a scowl, anger burning in his chest. "Why?" he asked after a moment, curiosity rearing.

It was then that he noticed Remus was practically vibrating with badly concealed rage. The uneasy feeling returned full force, and Sirius quickly crossed the bed to Remus' side.

"Rem, what's going on?"

Instead of answering him, Lupin simply placed Harry's hand in Sirius'. The dog-animagus frowned in confusion, but grasped the hand nonetheless, his thumb moving in circles against Harry's skin the way he usually did to comfort or calm his Godson.

The slight scrape against the pad of his thumb suggested a scar, and Sirius frowned. He didn't remember Harry ever hurting his hand…

 _I must not tell lies._

For a few seconds, Sirius could only stare at what was undoubtedly his Godson's messy scrawl, except that it was _etched into his fucking hand._

" _ **Merlin**_ ," the shaky exhalation fell from his lips as he connected the dots in his mind. "A blood quill…"

And it was about that moment that Sirius broke free from his shock-induced stupor, and blinding fury took over.

"That _bitch!_ " he bellowed, not even sparing a moment to be grateful for the silencing spells they'd put around Harry's room, to prevent anyone from spying on them. His magic reacted to his violent temper, shattering the tumblers and the pitcher of water at Harry's bedside. Thankfully, Remus' sharp reflexes conjured a shield around Harry, so nothing hit him.

Without hesitation, Sirius stormed away, only wrathful ire and the need for revenge in his mind. Before he could reach the door, Lupin's sharp voice stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He rounded on the werewolf incredulously. "She used a _blood quill_ on _**my pup**_!" he spat viciously. "Where in Merlin's name do you _think_ I'm going, Remus? I am going to _**fucking kill her!**_ "

"You misunderstand." Remus' voice was deathly quiet and dark, and Sirius knew from years of experience that this was his friend at his most dangerous. He only ever got this quiet when he was trying with every fiber of his being to keep Moony in. "I meant," he clarified, "where do you think you're going _without me_?"

Amber eyes sparked with an anger all their own, and Sirius only hesitated for a second before nodding his assent. He didn't think there was much that was more important than making that bitch pay for hurting his pup.

But then, there was always _one_ thing that was more important to Sirius than anything else in the entire world.

One _person_ that was more important than vengeance on anyone.

And he had forgotten about that person's annoyingly impeccable timing.

"Siri?" Harry mumbled, still not entirely awake. His eyes were scrunched in discomfort and, with what looked like massive effort, he managed to open them to half-mast. Hazy, pain-filled green orbs locked on Sirius' and that was all it took before the Auror was taking three big strides to come back to the injured teen's bedside.

"You're awake," Sirius breathed needlessly, his rage giving way temporarily to almost crippling relief. "Hey…hey, pup. How's the chest?"

A pained groan from his Godson as Harry tried to sit up, made Sirius' own chest twinge in hurt, but he pushed that down in favor of getting an arm around the teenager and gently helping him prop himself against the back of the bed.

"You two look furious," Harry commented, straining for a level voice and ignoring the question. Distracted by Moony taking up his place on Harry's other side, Sirius didn't notice the clench of Harry's jaw as he fought against the pain. "What's…what's going on? Did Snape… become Minister of Magic… or something?"

Despite himself, Sirius' lips twitched, and even Remus seemed to be fighting off a small smile. "If that ever happened, pup, you wouldn't have woken up in the same hemisphere as the one you fell unconscious in."

"As amusing as you two find yourselves," Remus spoke dryly as Harry snorted, "don't avoid the question, cub." The werewolf's hand found Harry's forehead, his thumb pressing soothing circles into his temple. "How are you feeling? Truly?"

Harry wrinkled his nose, relaxing easily with the soothing touch. "Sore," he admitted almost ruefully. "Like I took…a bludger attack…or fell off my broom… _again_."

Remus winced at the memory. "At least you're being honest."

"Which is more than you can say about these," Sirius held his Godson's hand up, a faint reprimand sounding behind the absolute fury. "Why the hell didn't you tell me she was using a blood quill on you, pup?" Though Sirius tried to sound reproachful – angry, even – it didn't come out like that. His voice was only pained, and regretful.

To his credit, Harry didn't deny anything. Instead, he sighed gustily, looking far older in that moment than he had in sleep, not five minutes earlier.

"Sirius," Harry's tone was apologetic but firm, "what were you…about to do…when I woke up?"

"I was going to go kill her," the Auror answered promptly, unrepentantly. "You're my pup, and if she thinks for one second that…"

" _Exactly_ ," the teenager interrupted gently, his voice still breathless. His green eyes seemed a curious mix of sadness and joy. "She knew… _exactly_ what I meant to you. She wanted you… or Remy… to try something, so she'd have… an excuse to take you… away from me." Harry alternated his gaze between Padfoot and Moony, and both Marauders seemed enraptured by the words coming out of the teenager's mouth. "You two… are some of very few reasons… that I can hold fast to my sanity… and my conviction about what…what happened last June. That I can remain… unaffected… by the lies they're spreading… about me. She realized that… in order to break me… she'd have to start with my foundation… and my foundation… is the two of you. My Godfather… and my favorite Uncle."

"Cub…"

Harry shook his head emphatically, tears beginning to form in his emerald green orbs. He took a deep, shuddering intake of air, finally steadying his breathing. "Don't tell me that I'm not right," he insisted stubbornly. Burning eyes zeroed in on Sirius and he felt like his Godson was seeing straight through to his soul, something he'd been able to do since he was a child. "And don't fall into what she wants."

Sirius bristled, realizing what the teen was asking him to do. "I am not letting this go, pup!" Despite the anger in his tone, the Auror was exceedingly gentle as brushed his fingers once more over the awful scars. "She had no right to put you through that torture, and make you feel like you couldn't come to the people who have your back the most. She wanted an angry guardian, we'll give her a bloody angry guardian."

Unsurprisingly, Harry didn't react to Sirius' temper. Instead, he flipped the hand around that Sirius was still touching and grabbed on to his hand, something the teen hadn't done since he was a child. Reacting instinctively, Sirius squeezed his hand, mindful of the cuts.

Drawn, world-weary features focused on the dog-animagus. "I went to the DOM," Harry started softly, "because I was more than _terrified_ of losing you. I...Sirius, I thought I…" the teen's voice became thick, the tears finally falling from his eyes. " _I thought I lost you_ ," he pushed the words out, his pained look matched by Sirius. "I thought I was going to lose you, and I nearly did. If I hadn't pushed you in time…"

"You gave me a heart attack doing that," Sirius interrupted roughly, his own eyes burning with emotion. "Don't you ever, not again, not _ever_." He hesitated a second, before adding a raw truth, "I'd rather die a hundred times over, than to lose you."

Harry smiled, bittersweet. "Me too," he nodded quietly, exhaustion beginning to creep into his eyes. "I can't lose you. Either of you," he amended, and Sirius abruptly remembered Moony's presence in the room. "And I will, if either of you go after her. I know you want to, but promise me. Promise me you won't." His voice turned pleading as he looked between them, the expression in his eyes one that they couldn't ever ignore. "Promise me you won't do anything that they can use to take me away from you."

Although the words were bitter in his mouth, Sirius could never deny his Godson a damn thing. "I promise I won't kill her, pup."

Remus nodded, absently stroking Harry's other hand. "I promise, cub."

Seeming satisfied, the teen nodded sleepily. He seemed to be fighting his drooping eyelids and Sirius smiled genuinely, for the first time since he was treated to the horrifying sight of his Godson taking a stunner to the chest. For a moment, the last remaining Potter looked extraordinarily like he did when he was six years old and trying to convince Sirius that _no, he_ _ **wasn't**_ _sleepy,_ and _**please**_ _could he stay up a little bit_ _ **longer**_ _?_

His long fingers found Harry's hair, carding gently through the locks like he had a thousand times before. "Sleep, puppy. You're safe now, and I promise that everything is going to be okay."

Like he had back then, Harry took his reassurances without question, as though he couldn't fathom that his Godfather couldn't promise that. He leaned into Sirius' familiar touch, seeking the comfort and allowing himself to drift.

Sirius kept the motion up, watching contentedly as his Godson fell asleep. And when sleep-hazed green eyes opened to half-mast, searching him out unconsciously, Sirius knew what his pup needed to hear.

"Padfoot?"

He smiled to himself, ignoring the quizzical look Remus sent his way. He leaned a little closer to his Godson, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

"Alright Prongslet, it's okay, I'm here now," he promised. "I'll stay."

###


	7. Of fathers and battles won

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nuh-uh. Though not from a lack of trying.

A/N: Whew! This one was harder than I thought it would be. It snowballed drastically, actually, since I couldn't just leave out the Battle of Hogwarts, and because, well, I'm a sap! But hey; super long chapter ahead!

Heads up, the premise for the final battle was taken from Deathly Hallows, though not all of it. **There are some lines, however, that I borrowed from the book, and those lines are denoted with a (*) and belong solely to the fantastic genius we know as JK Rowling.**

One more chapter after this one. Oh, and to those who celebrate it, Happy 4th of July!

Hope y'all enjoy!

###

 _ **May 2**_ _ **nd**_ _ **1998**_

If Sirius had thought he'd seen carnage in his time as an Auror, and during the first war…

…well it was nothing compared to the destruction that had befallen his old school this night.

All around him, Hogwarts lay in shambles. Bodies were strewn about in alarming numbers, both faces and dark masks alike, and the castle that had once seemed indestructible to him, was now half-ruined, crumbling and fragile, a cruel mockery of their own forces, of the side of the Light.

Sighing heavily, he headed back to the Great Hall, needing now more than ever to see his Godson.

The past few months had been tortuous for him. When Harry had disappeared, the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding, he had been out of his mind with terror. The stubborn, newly-of-age wizard had only mirror-called him once they were safe in some unknown location, and Sirius had spent the first twenty minutes of that call chewing Harry out, one minute for every year the kid had shaved off his life, scaring him like that. No matter how much he demanded, threatened, compromised and outright pleaded for Harry to come back, or to let Sirius tag along, his pup wouldn't budge, seeming unwilling to risk his safety just as much as he was cautious about keeping the Horcrux hunt on the down low. It had taken everything Sirius had, not to lose his head and adamantly refuse to be kept out of the loop.

In fact, it took Lupin and Tonks getting pregnant to get him to stop trying to track Harry down. Remus had somehow managed to catch up with the trio in some remote forest where, incidentally, the Marauder had been dispatched to collect some Potions ingredients. Thanks to the complete coincidence it was, the werewolf hadn't risked contacting Sirius before he approached the group, touching base with them for the first time since they'd disappeared.

Lupin told him how he'd spoken to Harry, and gotten his arse handed to him in true Potter style. By the time his old friend had finished the story, Sirius was torn between beaming pride, and the heart-ripping sadness that came from missing his Godson. After making sure to clip Moony across the head ( _"Don't_ _ **ever**_ _lose your head with my pup like that again, or that will be the_ _ **least**_ _of your concerns, Rem.")_ he finally forced himself to look at his Godson objectively.

Harry was a man. Merlin, he had more or less been a man ever since that disastrous Triwizard tournament, after what had happened at the Graveyard. More to the point, he had seen horrors that would have had most wizards double his age throwing in the towel, and he had dealt with it all like a champ. He had taken every expectation that the Light side – and even the Dark side – had of him, and bore them on his shoulders. He wore the extra weight not like rocks, but like wings; seemingly effortlessly, and with more grace than the 17-year-old had any right having.

He knew Harry had always scoffed at the ridiculous titles that had been bestowed upon him over the years. The Warrior of the Wizarding World. The Hero of the Light. Of course, the age-old _Boy-Who-Lived_. Sirius had always taken his cue from his charge's reactions to them; becoming protective when Harry seemed hurt by them, and shrugging them off good-naturedly as soon as the kid learned to take it all in stride. Now though, the dog-animagus was forced to conclude something that unashamedly scared him.

Harry had become exactly that.

He had become their warrior, and their savior, and in lieu of Dumbledore's death, even their leader to an extent. Whether they had consciously realized it or not, they had all been taking directives and cues from Harry, and even then, his pup hadn't so much as buckled under the additional pressure. He had simply stepped up, calm as you please, and taken control of the chaos that followed Albus' untimely demise. They hadn't even thought much of it, since the teen had slipped effortlessly into the role of their fearless leader, as though he were primed and prepared to do so, which Sirius knew he most definitely was _not_. Unprepared, Harry still had better instincts than them all in this war, coming perhaps from self-preservation, or perhaps from that innate sense of war that the kid had been cultivating since he first stepped foot in Hogwarts. Either way, Harry had become their leader, their figure head, and their cause.

The moment he acknowledged what he already knew deep down – that Harry was the strongest person he'd ever known – he decided to trust in his Godson. Trust in his capabilities and his proficiency as a wizard, as well as trust in the solid relationship that they had built with each other. Just as Harry could hold his own with the best of them, thanks to years of unwitting practice, so too could he always come to Sirius if he ever needed anything, thanks to years of _knowing_ that he _could_.

With that acceptance also came the warm gratitude of his charge, which he had to admit felt wonderful after weeks of being at odds with each other. He and Harry had never taken their fights very well. As though the teen realized how much it took for Sirius to let him go, Harry reciprocated by increasing his mirror-calls, as a sort of unspoken thank you for supporting him.

Acceptance notwithstanding, Sirius had worried himself half to death every moment that his pup was out of his sight. When Teddy Lupin was born and he finally managed to see Harry at Shell Cottage, it had nearly buckled his knees with equal amounts of relief and love and concern. It had soothed his inner Grim, to be allowed the chance to tend to his puppy, and it had also soothed his Godfather instincts to able to hold his charge in his arms once more.

He would never forget the conversation they had that night…

" _A Sickle for your thoughts?"_

 _Harry started at his words – something he hadn't done in a while – and turned sharply to face him. Sirius felt a harsh pang in his chest when he saw the tear-streaked face his Godson was sporting._

 _He could've kicked himself for his insensitivity._

" _Oh, Harry," he sighed, pulling his unresisting charge into a tight hug. "I'm sorry about Dobby, pup," he whispered, his heart breaking when Harry only clutched him tighter, beginning to shake violently. "I'm so sorry."_

 _The teen didn't answer, and Sirius didn't really expect him to. Instead, he simply continued carding his fingers through the raven hair, encouraging his Godson to feel the grief that he would have bottled up otherwise._

 _Finally, Harry loosened his grip, but kept his face buried in Sirius' chest. "This needs to end, Siri," he spoke thickly, the old nickname a testament to how upset he was. "This war. It's gone on long enough."_

 _A flash of pain took his breath away momentarily as he recalled one James Potter, 17 years earlier, saying those exact same words to him over a sleeping Harry's form. "I know, pup," he finally whispered. "I know. Soon."_

 _To his credit, Harry didn't ask_ _ **when**_ _, presumably knowing that was something that couldn't be answered. They sat together in silence outside, watching as the stars began to scatter across the sky. No one interrupted them, and they didn't need to talk; just then, it was all about being with each other and the comfort that could only come from a family._

" _Teddy is great," Harry offered quietly, an unspoken signal that he was okay, and ready to talk._

 _Sirius didn't bother letting go, though._

" _He is," the Auror nodded with a small smile. "It's bizarre that my Godson is now a Godfather, though."_

 _He felt more than saw Harry wrinkle his nose. "As honored as I am, I think Remus is making a mistake." Big green eyes rose to meet his grey orbs. "Don't you think so? I'm reckless and currently have a target the size of Britain painted on my back. That's probably the worst combo a Godfather should ever have. I don't even know if I'm going to survive this battle, Sirius! I don't know if I'm even going to_ _ **live**_ _long enough to_ _ **be**_ _his Godfather!"_

" _Remus trusts you," the dog-animagus chose his words carefully, trying not to flinch at the idea of losing Harry, "because he knows you. He helped raise you. And he believes in you._ _ **I**_ _believe in you. We all do. Not because of the prophecy, or because of some notion that you're invincible. We believe in you because you're intelligent, resourceful, cunning, quick, level-headed and strong. We believe in you because you already have everything you need to win this fight. And that's why we know that you're not reckless. If there was a chance that you weren't ready to face this quest, but you jumped in anyway, then yes. I would've called you reckless, pup. But you walked into this with armor strapped on, hand on the hilt of your sword. I don't call that recklessness. I call that bravery."_

 _Harry seemed to mull on the words for a long moment, before responding. "Don't_ _ **feel**_ _very brave, Siri."_

" _Tell you a secret?" He waited for his Godson to nod the affirmative. "Don't really think that any of us do."_

" _Were you afraid? When my parents named you my Godfather?"_

 _The Auror chuckled, remembering fondly the day in question. Never before in his life, had he ever felt the same way he did when James handed him the ever so soft bundle that was Harry's tiny form. No amount of DE captures, or wins in quiddich, or successful pranks, could possibly compare to the feel of his Godson's heartbeat against his chest, or the feel of Harry's tiny hand wrapping around his finger, or looking at the sparkling green eyes for the first time._

" _Terrified, at first," he admitted freely, looking again into those eyes, and feeling his world realign itself once more, the same way it had 17 years ago. "I thought I was going to bollocks it all up. I was sure Rem would have been a better candidate. But then I held you for the first time, and I couldn't fathom not being as big a part of your life as James would allow me. I knew that I loved you more than I ever thought I could love someone, and because of that, I could do whatever you needed me to do. I_ _ **would**_ _do whatever you needed me to do. You understand, pup?"_

 _Green eyes swimming with tears looked at him, love and gratitude there that he never tired of seeing. Slowly, the teen blinked the moisture away and nodded with a smile that was half affectionate, half mischievous._

" _I understand that you might be getting soft on me, old man."_

" _Smart arse!" Sirius chuckled, playfully shoving Harry lightly. He was so relieved by the sight of his Godson's familiar smile, that he didn't even mind the jab. "Merlin, pup, I'm so damn happy to see you," he murmured for the umpteenth time that night, pulling his charge in closer to his chest._

" _Me too, Sirius," Harry breathed, resting his head wearily against his guardian. "I never realized how much I relied on you till you weren't there all the time."_

 _The dog-animagus nodded understandingly. "I know what you mean. The Manor felt like a museum without you there. At least when you were at Hogwarts, I knew that you were coming back, and when. It was hell to go home and wonder when I was going to see you next."_

" _I'm sorry," the teen apologized with a flinch, "for running off like that. I knew you would try to stop me, and I just…I couldn't. I have an obligation to the wizarding world…"_

" _No, pup," Sirius interrupted firmly, feeling well sick of the world that had forced his Godson into this predicament. The world that saw fit to load their problems onto his charge's young shoulders, and that selfishly expected him to give his life for them. The life that Sirius treasured_ _ **above**_ _the rest of the world's. "You have no obligation to anyone. Don't feel like you've lived your life to this end."_

 _Harry looked up at him, an affectionate, but equally bitter smile on his face. "Haven't I, though? Lived this life with the purpose of killing Riddle?"_

" _How can you say that?" Sirius demanded, lightly gripping the nape of his Godson's neck, his thumb massaging the tension away soothingly. "You have a Godson who's going to think the world of you. You have friends who would die for you. You have Remus, who thinks of you as his first cub, and you have me who…well, there's no real words or limits to our relationship, and there never has been. You're so much more than that thrice damned prophecy. Your_ _ **life**_ _is so much more than a montage to a psychotic, deranged lunatic with an inferiority complex."_

 _Somewhat desperate green eyes met his, and an unnamed fear suddenly struck his heart. Before he could think on it, his Godson spoke._

" _Whatever happens…Thank you, Siri."_

 _He blinked in surprise. "For what, pup?"_

 _Harry buried himself closer, as though he were afraid to meet his eyes. "For_ _ **giving**_ _me a life that was so much more than a montage to a psychotic, deranged lunatic with an inferiority complex."_

As much as the conversation had soothed his worried heart – despite everything, he had been concerned that his Godson wouldn't see much need for him anymore, being that he was already a Godfather himself – it had also been a bit of an eye-opener to him. He had always learnt on the job, when it came to his Godson. He realized that, no matter how old Harry got, there were still going to be times when he needed Sirius, and as such, the Auror had to remember that his job as Harry's guardian, wasn't about to end because his charge had come of age. Harry still needed him, although he wouldn't say it anymore, the way he did when he was a kid.

Which just gave Sirius all the more reason to want to find his Godson.

He finally reached the Great Hall, wincing at the sight of the grieving families and remembering the night he had grieved the same way, 16 years ago. While the sight of every man, woman and child lying lifeless struck his heart with sympathy and sadness, it also triggered a growing sense of concern.

He knew that Harry would be taking every body as a proverbial lash against himself.

He thought about Riddle's ultimatum and unconsciously increased his speed, searching for any sign of Remus or Harry. When he had left to survey the damage outside, Harry had been talking to the werewolf, and he knew that his best chance at finding his charge would be trying to find his old friend.

He stopped for a moment to sympathize with the Weasley family. Charlie's death had taken them all by surprise; Fred, most of all, was wracked with guilt, since his older brother had died saving his life. Sirius realized that he couldn't do much for the family, outside of allowing them to grieve, so after a few moments, he left them. He felt guilty about it, but his more pressing concern was his Godson; he was bound to have taken Charlie's death more personally than any others, and Harry was his first priority.

Finally, he found Lupin with a grieving Tonks, settled next to the bodies of Amelia and Susan Bones. His heart stuttered triple time when he noticed Harry's glaring absence.

 _How many more will you let die in your place, Harry Potter?_

Icy fear struck him like a tidal wave. _No,_ he thought desperately, a lump lodging in his throat. _No, he wouldn't._

"Sirius," Remus was talking to him, his voice grim. "Amelia was also Dora's mentor, next to Moody. She's not really…Sirius? Pads, what's the matter?"

The Auror snapped back to focus, his eyes wild. He grabbed his old friend's arm, ignoring the weak glare and wince he received in return. "Where's Harry, Moony? I saw him talking to you when I left. Remus, where is he?"

What little color was in Lupin's face, drained dramatically as he realized the suspicions that were going through Sirius' head.

"Sirius…he told me that he was going to go find _you_."

It would have hurt less if Remus had sucker-punched him in the gut.

Both men realized what was happening at the same time, and they tore out of the Great Hall like there was a Cerberus after them. They both ignored the yells that were coming from the survivors in the hall, hoping against hope that their misgivings weren't correct.

 _This needs to end. This war. It's gone on long enough._

 _I don't even know if I'm going to live long enough to be his Godfather!_

 _Whatever happens…thank you, Siri._

All at once, the feeling in his gut had a name.

Foreboding.

Had Harry known that it would come to an ultimatum? Probably not. But his Godson had evidently felt like there was a more than decent chance he wouldn't live through the battle. Sirius was so blinded by his relief at seeing his charge after so many months that he hadn't noticed the signs of fear and desperation.

 _Please, pup,_ he prayed fervently, fighting back the grief and helplessness and terror that threatened to choke him. _Please, say you didn't, that you wouldn't take yourself away from me. Please, Harry, Prongslet,_ _ **please**_ _._

They burst through the entrance to Hogwarts as one, barely aware of the figures that had run with them. Sirius frantically searched the familiar area, his heart stopping when he saw the crowd of Death Eaters approaching them.

Hagrid was with them.

Walking, hunched over almost in half.

He was shaking,

Sobbing.

Over something he was cradling in his arms.

Some _one_ he was cradling in his arms.

Like a child.

The giant was inconsolable and the small, prone figure in his arms wasn't so much as twitching.

 _No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no,_ _ **NO**_ _._

"Padfoot… _Sirius_." Remus' weak, choked voice came over him as the ex-professor's hand gripped his shoulder almost painfully. It was only then that the dog-animagus realized he had been speaking out loud, shaking his head with increasing vehemence.

"No," he simply repeated, forcing the word past the lump in his throat. " _No_."

Finally, Riddle and his army were in front of them, but the figure in Hagrid's arms was still blocked by the hunched over giant.

Voldemort looked at them, blatant glee in his disfigured face. "The Boy Who Lived…is dead."

Sirius' entire world shattered around him.

He heard the screams around him. Professor McGonagall. Ron. Hermione. Ginny. The Weasley twins. Countless others, ranging from heartbroken pleas to angered abuse.

But he couldn't bring himself to make a single sound.

Remus was vibrating next to him, a volatile bundle of rage and inconsolable grief. Sirius understood that more than anyone, because the agony that was tearing through his body was worse than the Dementors and the Cruciatus combined. His muscles were burning and numb at the same time. His heart was hollow and empty, yet tormented and destroyed all at once.

It was what he'd always imagined the Dementor's Kiss to feel like, because nothing seemed to matter to him anymore.

His _pup_ , his _Harry_ , his _entire_ _life_ …was lying _**dead**_ a few feet away from him.

There was nothing anyone could've done to stop him from falling harshly to the ground, knees protesting the impact.

"Harry…" he breathed, that one word so full of tortured anguish that it spoke volumes more than any shout or scream. "Pup…"

Riddle sneered at him while Bellatrix cackled, looking jubilant at his suffering. "How very… _touching_ ," the man taunted hoarsely. "Are you sorrowful over Potter's death, or because he was killed trying to flee the battle?"

White-hot fury burst through his numbness, and Sirius swore he could see a sheen of red in front of his eyes. He glared silently at them for a long moment as he rose to his feet, and whatever they saw in his eyes made Riddle's smirk falter, and Bellatrix's laughter cease.

It would figure that they'd be familiar with the look of unadulterated murder.

" _Liar_." Sirius stated, his voice powerful and level and soft, making the cold wrath in it that much more pronounced. _Times like these people remember that I'm still of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Black,_ the thought flashed through his mind as detached malice spread through his veins. He wanted to make Riddle **suffer** for taking his pup from him, and daring to insult his memory to top it off. "You can't stand the fact that he is… _was_ ," the correction nearly broke Sirius, "braver than you could ever hope of being. He was ten times the man, and the wizard, that you will ever be." Despair and wretched mourning mixed in with the anger in his voice.

The crowd seemed to take their cue from him, resuming their yelling and insulting.

"Silence!" With a wave of his wand, Riddle cast a silencing charm on the whole crowd. "Harry Potter was a coward!" he shrieked, losing composure quickly in the face of Sirius' icy demeanor and the steadfast belief the light side was displaying in their hero. "He has met his match at the end of _my_ wand!"

*"HE BEAT YOU!"*

Sirius didn't react as Ron's furious shout broke the spell, inciting another riot from the grief-stricken defenders of Hogwarts. With another incomprehensible screech, Voldemort silenced them, looking like he was barely keeping his calm.

Riddle snapped his wand-arm aggressively, and Harry's body was jerked violently out of Hagrid's arms, falling against the ground at the deranged wizard's feet, with a thud that seemed to resonate in Sirius' soul. "He is _dead_ ," Riddle bit out, eying the still form contemptuously. "Potter is _finished_."

There was a shuffle, and a break in the magic holding them, before Neville Longbottom lurched forward.

"No he's not," the boy refuted boldly, reminding Sirius briefly of Frank Longbottom. "Harry's _not_ finished, and he'll _never_ _be_ finished, not as long as we remain. Harry gave his life for us, and we'll fight still in his name! He was our hero, and while there are still those of us who remain faithful to him, to his memory and his cause, his heart will keep beating. In all of us!"

An ugly look of derision took over Riddle's face, but before he could retort, a loud trilling was heard that Sirius could swear was vaguely familiar.

Moments later, Fawkes' brilliant form soared overhead, dropping something lumpy and faded black into the masses.

Sirius spared a moment to be confused. _I thought it was only Phoenix-Familiars that responded to the defense of their Masters?_ But a single look at the still-lifeless body of his Godson was enough to obliterate his curiosity, and replace it with heartbreak.

Who could care about the habits of Familiars when their entire world had been ripped from them?

Voldemort seemed plenty interested, though. "Ah…the Sorting Hat. Could it be that even Dumbledore's faithful Phoenix has acknowledged that there will no longer be a need for such an item under the Dark Lord's reign?" The snake-like features contorted with malicious glee. "Perhaps, it is time for Mr. Longbottom to become a…shall we say, _encouragement_ , to others, who might dare to entertain notions of defying the one true Master?"

Instead of waiting for an answer, Riddle slashed his wand in the air, making the hat fall on to Neville's head. Sirius tried to move forward – Harry would've been so mad at him if he let the boy get hurt – but found himself stuck fast.

"You still do not wish to join my side, Longbottom?" Riddle asked silkily.

He was met with a defiant chin-thrust. "I'm already part of a side," came the uncharacteristically confident answer. "Dumbledore's side… _Harry's_ side."

Although it offered him scant comfort, Sirius knew that their fellow soldiers were displaying their loyalty and admiration of his Godson. At the very least, they acknowledged what their hero had always done for them, and the ultimate price he had paid for their safety.

It seemed Riddle had realized their unfailing devotion too, because his face hardened. "Fine," he said coolly, raising his wand. *"On your head, be it."*

Several things happened at once, and if Sirius had dared to blink, he would have missed it. As the Hat caught fire, there was a large _crack_ as their forces broke free of the spell binding them. The Light side charged the Death Eaters and Remus fired off a spell to knock the now-burning Hat off Neville's head. Before Sirius could so much as lift his wand, Longbottom had plunged his hand into the embers, and with a glint of silver, drew a very familiar sword from the ashes.

And with a single, rage-driven swipe, the aggrieved teen sliced Nagini's head clear off.

Everyone seemed to freeze as the snake's head fell to the ground with a disgusting squelch. Few realized the implications – _the final horcrux was gone_ – but no one could mistake the crazed, pained screech that left Riddle's lips.

The deranged man was livid, but all Sirius could think, was that the man was mortal now.

 _This is what Harry was working on, away from me for months, pushing himself so hard at._

 _This is what Harry wanted._

 _This is what Harry_ _ **gave his life**_ _for._

And almost as though Harry was standing right next to him, mischievous and affectionate grin in place, Sirius heard his Godson's voice. _Time to end this, Padfoot. Don't let him get you, too._

United in their grief, Sirius and Remus stepped forward wordlessly, together, wands pointed at Riddle with nothing but malevolent intent. In any other circumstance, the Auror might have teased Moony for acting as impulsively as Sirius himself…

…but Moony had lost his cub, just as Padfoot had lost his pup. There was room for neither humor, nor rationality.

There was only revenge.

In the next moment, they were dueling, the all three wizards fueled with a different grief. For how long they traded curses, Sirius couldn't tell, but from all the fighting of the night, the Auror was fatigued, and losing fire quickly. His entire being was worn down with indescribable agony; frankly, without Harry, he had nothing left to fight for.

Sirius was distracted suddenly, by the familiar laugh of his cousin cut brutally short; he turned his head instinctively, in time to watch Bellatrix fall at Molly Weasley's wand. That moment was all Riddle needed; Sirius heard Remus – who was lying on the floor, having dived violently to dodge a Killing Curse, losing his wand in the process – as the werewolf yelled out a desperate warning. At the same time, he saw a Reductor curse, hurtling towards his chest, directly aimed at his heart. His brain, in that instant, drained all thoughts except for one:

 _I'll be with my pup again._

And with that thought in mind, he couldn't even bring himself to conjure a shield to stop what was coming.

Which was why it came as such a shock when an _extremely familiar_ voice suddenly roared, " _PROTEGO!"_

Sirius froze. _No… it can't be._

With mounting desperation, Sirius flashed back to the moment, 16 years ago, when he was standing in front of the rubble that was the ruined Godric's Hollow home, faced with an impossible hope that his entire world, was not yet taken away from him.

Just as it had when Harry's cries had filled the air all those years ago, frantic thoughts flooded his mind.

 _Harry? Pup…oh, please…oh, Harry, please,_ _ **Merlin,**_ _ **please**_ _…_

And just as he had all those years ago, Harry found a way back to him.

With a familiar _whoosh,_ the invisibility cloak was thrown off the shoulders of the Warrior of the Wizarding World. The image that met the Auror's eyes stopped his breath momentarily.

His Godson stood strong, brave and proud, the mirror image of James, except with a confidence born of years of experience, rather than blind cockiness. His wand was pointed unfalteringly at Riddle, and his green eyes were alight, sparking with emerald fire.

If Sirius were to ever imagine an avenging angel, that image would probably fit the bill to a T.

The force of his relief almost crippled him, and Sirius ached to hold his Godson in his arms, before ripping the kid a new one for sacrificing himself when he meant so much more to Padfoot than anything else in the world. He immediately took a step towards his charge, only to find a gentle, but insistent force propel him ever so softly away. In that second, a seemingly flimsy, very fine sheen of gold shimmered in front of him. The sheet seemed to stretch like a dome around Harry and Riddle, letting neither wizard out…

…and no one else in.

"No…" he mumbled, his horror intensifying as realization dawned. "No, Harry, _NO_!"

He was given an apologetic look from his precious Godson before the teen's attention focused once again on Riddle. *"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry stated, sounding calm as ever. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."*

As beautiful as the teen's voice sounded – _alive, so blessedly alive_ – Sirius absolutely despised what he was saying.

*"Potter doesn't mean that,"* Riddle sneered, but the look on his face as he stared at the raven-haired teen, could only be described as frightened disbelief. *"Who are you going to let die for you now, little boy?"*

*"Nobody," Harry replied simply. "There are no more horcruxes. It's just you and me now, Tom. Neither can live, while the other survives, remember?* It's come time that one of us finishes this."

"One of us?" Riddle heckled, a maniacal glint in his red eyes. "You think you can finish this, Potter? *The Boy Who Lived, _by accident_?* Because he was hiding behind everyone else?"

Sirius was enraptured, filled with so many different emotions, it was difficult to name them all. The most distinctive he could point out were blinding fear, dread, and white-hot fury.

" _Accident_?" Still, Harry's level tone didn't break; the inflection was only present to those who knew the teen well enough to look for it. *"Was it an accident when my mother gave her life to save me? Was it an accident when I looked you in the eye and decided to fight, that night in the graveyard? An accident that I walked into that forest tonight, didn't raise a hand to defend myself, yet still survived to return to the fight?"*

"All of it!" Riddle screamed, seeming more unnerved by the cool demeanor of his rival. "All of it, accidents!"

As the two wizards circled each other predatorily, their spectators watched on in morbid and horrified fascination. For the most part, Sirius was frantically fearful for his pup's safety; Remus was at his side in a few beats, and the remaining Marauders seemed to share in their distress over their charge's inaccessibility. With another unspoken agreement, the two wizards began to search for weaknesses in the barrier, any way in which they could get through.

The silence was broken with Riddle's taunting voice, only slightly calmer than it was before. "I ask again, Potter. Who will you allow to die for you this night, so you might evade my curse once more? One of your devoted little friends? Your half-breed uncle? Perhaps…your precious _Godfather_?"

For the first time, the teen's even voice broke, as quiet rage throbbed within it. "You will _**not touch**_ any of them. You can _never_ hurt them, ever again. Don't you get it? I came to you willingly tonight, *ready to die to stop you from hurting any of them."*

With a flash of comprehension, Sirius realized what his Godson was implying, but apparently Riddle wasn't as quick on the uptake.

"But you did not die!"

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself once more. *"I meant to, and that was enough. You haven't noticed that none of your spells are binding? I did for them, for _all_ of them, what my mother did for me. They are, and forever will be, protected from you. You can't torture them. You can't _touch_ them. Not anymore." The teen shook his head mockingly. "You never learn from your mistakes, do you Tom?"*

Riddle hissed at the despised name, his eyes narrowing. "You dare…"

"I dare," Harry interrupted with a nod, sounding agreeable, as though they were discussing lunch plans. Despite the impossible situation, Sirius' chest felt like it would burst with pride at the absolute bravery his Godson was displaying. "I dare, _Tom,_ because I know how this fight is going to end. I know, and because of the second chances I've been given in my life, I'm going to ask you this; try. * _Try_ , Tom…be a man…try for some _remorse_ …"*

To say Sirius was gobsmacked would be an incredible understatement. Harry was…giving Riddle a way out? A shot at redemption? For everything the dark wizard had done…his Godson could still find it in himself to have some compassion for the sorry excuse of a man? Empathy, and kindness?

Harry James Potter truly was a remarkable man.

After recovering from his own shock, Riddle abruptly sneered. "Trying to reform me? You're just as pathetic as your mentor was, Potter."

What seemed to be real regret, shadowed the teen's green eyes. "Dumbledore knew more than you ever will, Riddle."

"About _love_?" Sirius could hear the derision in Voldemort's voice, as the dog-animagus gave up trying to find any yield in his Godson's too-strong shield. "Is that what you think will tilt the odds in your favor, Potter? Dumbledore's infamous solution, which did not stop the old man from dying at my will?"

"You grossly underestimate that which you cannot understand, Riddle," Harry spoke candidly. "Love is more than what you perceive it to be; it's more than just a crutch for the weak-minded. It's something I've been privy to in many facets of my life…something you've missed out on, sadly, which has led you to the broken shell of a man you are right now."

Harry didn't speak the words with any malice, rather sounding like he truly pitied the man Tom Riddle had become.

To the dark wizard, that was nothing but another taunt, and he began to tremble with rage. "You dare…"

Harry actually rolled his eyes, which gave Sirius the insane urge to snort. "Yes, I dare," his Godson replied once more, a little sharply. "Because I have the love of a mother and father, who gave their lives to save mine. I have the love of a great man, who was like nothing short of a grandfather to me. I have the love of my friends, who would risk their lives for me, as I would for them, and the love of the Hogwarts family, who even tonight united against you for the good of our home." For the first time, Harry acknowledged the presence outside the golden bubble, briefly looking at Remus. "I have the love of a surrogate uncle who taught me just as much about life, as he did with books." Finally, green eyes met grey, and Sirius could see nothing but the same child-like adoration that Harry had for Padfoot since he was born; the same love that had shone in his Godson's face since he held Harry in his arms for the first time. "I have the love of a father," Harry spoke quietly, his voice slightly thick as he maintained eye-contact, seeming determined to speak this to Sirius as much as to Riddle. "A father, in every way that it counts, and in some ways that it doesn't count too. A father that never _had_ to be there for me, but who always was, loving me enough to make up for both parents, and teaching me love in return. Love, and loyalty, and bravery, with a ferocity unmatched by anyone I've ever known." Sirius felt tears run down his cheeks unchecked, his entire being overflowing with love and the indescribable glow of happiness that came with the word _father._

It felt like a blow to the chest when Harry tore his eyes away, focused once more on the curiously quiet dark wizard. "You know, Tom," Harry spoke lowly, "our magic is as deep a part of us as our own souls. Dumbledore understood that; he understood that our magic, as an inherent part of us, would bend and yield to our cores. To our wants and desires and intentions. The full extent of my power became unlocked by love, that night in Godric's Hollow. And even now, the love I feel for my family and friends, will unleash that full extent onto you." Harry raised a single, challenging eyebrow. "There's no more powerful a motivator than love, to a protector."

"Protector?" Riddle hissed disdainfully. "You think yourself the protector of these people?"

"Always was, Tom, and _always_ will be."

Finally, the two wizards stopped, and Sirius' heart froze, recognizing the moment for what it was.

The final battle.

Harry too seemed to realize the decision that Riddle had come to; a cavernous sigh escaped his lips, even as the teen squared his shoulders and tightened his grip on his wand, adjusting his stance accordingly.

"Fine," his Godson murmured, a ring of finality in his voice. "So it was prophesized, so shall it be."

And as if acting on an unspoken go-ahead, the two began to duel.

Sirius found it impossible to tear his eyes away, or even blink, as he watched his Godson fighting with bated breath. Harry moved fluidly and confidently, so different from the usual reservations the boy displayed, shooting jets of red and blue and silver at his opponent. Riddle seemed to be fighting with equal effort, the majority of his spells a very distinctive green, with only a few deep violet and reds thrown in. Remus, too, was rooted to the spot, but Sirius could no more comfort his friend than he could forgive Pettigrew for betraying James and Lily.

For his part, Harry seemed to have forgotten everyone except Riddle, throwing his all into the battle. Some of his Godson's curses hit their target, and Sirius had to fight against his compulsion to yell out whenever Riddle's spells grazed Harry.

Both men were injured, bleeding freely in several places, sweating profusely from fatigue but without any signs of stopping. Without warning, a violet jinx connected with Harry's side, and the resulting cry of pain had Sirius ramming himself into the golden dome once more to no avail.

The shield would still not budge.

Harry rolled with the momentum from his fall, bringing himself quickly back to his feet. For a single moment, suspended in time, the two wizards locked eyes.

And then, it happened.

With a scream, Riddle shot a jet of pitch black magic at Harry, and the teen responded in kind, shooting a pure gold light to meet with the black, head-on.

From the power resonating around them, there was no doubt in Sirius' mind that they were shooting pure magic, from their cores, at each other.

Now, it would simply be a matter of who was more powerful.

They watched in silence as, slowly but surely, the brilliant gold began to overpower the black. Harry seemed to be pushing every iota of himself into the attack, throwing every atom of his magic at Riddle, and although the dark wizard seemed to be doing the same, Harry's was still stronger.

As if it were a dream, Harry pushed his magic with one final roar. Time seemed to stop; Riddle's magic all but disappeared, leaving the path undisturbed for the gold light, which struck his chest and enveloped Riddle in an amber glow.

There was an awful scream, and for a single moment that seemed to span a century, Tom Marvolo Riddle fell.

It was over.

As Riddle's body hit the ground, the shield also evaporated. Sirius could barely comprehend what had just transpired; all he knew, was that he needed to get to his Godson.

Without any prompting, he ran to Harry. It was a good thing, too, since in the next second, the teen crumpled in a dead faint.

Sirius got there in time to catch his charge, lowering him gently to the ground. "Harry?" he rasped, his voice scratchy and pained. "Harry, love, wake up." He caressed the messy black hair habitually, leaning close and shielding the teen with his body. All the spectators were still frozen, wondering what was happening to their fallen hero. Sirius dipped his head closer still. "Open those eyes, puppy. You've got to wake up for me, please, love."

There was no response.

Sirius' blood froze, and in a beat, Remus was there, feeling Harry's neck for a pulse. "He's alive!" the werewolf shouted, relief clear as day in his voice. The deafening cheers reverberated around the hall, but Sirius was focused on the panicked look on his old friend's face. Moony looked at him, fear taut in his eyes, confirming that the scare wasn't over. "He needs to go to Mungos," Lupin told him urgently. "He's suffering from magical exhaustion. He needs to get there now, Sirius! Or he could…"

Remus didn't need to finish the sentence.

Padoot would never know how he managed to apparate in that moment without splinching himself, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. As soon as he stormed through the doors, screaming for help, everything happened in a flurry of activity. It took two burly guards to hold him back when they wheeled his Godson away, but finally, Sirius calmed down, allowing himself to be dragged to the waiting room by Moony. The werewolf arrived a few minutes after them, having conveyed Harry's state to the Light side and promising to keep them updated. Tonks had demanded to come along, seeing Harry as her little brother, but Remus had managed to convince her to see to Teddy, until they knew Harry's status.

It was hours, and some terrifying scares later, when Lupin finally broke the silence between them.

"Your pacing isn't going to help them heal Harry."

Sirius glared weakly at him in response. "They've been working on him for _hours_ ," he stressed, snapping irritably. "You were here _both_ times they said his _heart_ _stopped_! How the fuck can you be so calm?"

A flash of something crossed Lupin's eyes, making the amber eyes glow briefly, before he regained control. "I've got to be calm, since the alternative is Moony ripping the entire hospital to shreds," the werewolf replied bluntly. "Besides, you don't think they'll be doing all they can to save the _Hero_ _of the Light?"_

"You don't understand, Moony." Sirius could tell from his friend's tone, that the flippant statement was meant to try and comfort him, but all it did was reinforce what was going through the dog-animagus' mind. "To them, to all those Healers, that's what he is. He's their _hero_. But that's all he is, to them! If he…" Sirius swallowed, with no amount of ease, "if they…if they _l-lose_ him…they'll only be losing the face of their war. They'll write books and dedicate monuments, as if they _knew_ him, as if they knew anything about Harry as a _person_." Sirius turned anguished eyes on to his fellow Marauder. "But I'd be losing _my_ _son_ , Remus." He huffed a laugh, but it was a bitter sound, devoid of mirth. "And he _is_ mine! He's my son, in all but blood." He turned his eyes heavenward, tears gathering hot and stinging. "Merlin forgive me, James," he breathed helplessly, "but in my _heart_ , he's _mine_. Ever since I held him, ever since I promised that I'd love and protect him, he was mine." He looked back at Moony, uncaring of the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks. The werewolf looked pained, the same fears on his face now reflecting back at Sirius while Lupin's guard was down. "I never meant to take James' place," he whispered. "I swear. That day…everything inside me shattered, for losing my brother. My sister. But I could go on, because I had Harry. I vowed never to let myself tell Harry that he was mine, because James deserved to have that title forever. But today…Harry _said_ that he saw me as a father, too. And I realized that he could see me as his father too, without losing any love or admiration for James. But if I lose Harry…I'll never get the chance to tell him that he's my son in the ways that count too. Remus, I won't have the _chance_ ," he finished weakly, losing his battle with his tears.

His friend suddenly embraced him fiercely, gripping his shoulder as he cried. "It's going to be okay, Padfoot," he muttered hoarsely, his voice thick. "He'll be okay. Harry's strong, he'll pull through. He wouldn't leave us, he knows we need him around. He wouldn't _leave_ us."

After a few minutes, Sirius finally composed himself, pulling away and mopping at his face. "He has to come back," he mumbled, almost childishly. "James can't have him back just yet." He dropped into a chair, rubbing his face with the palms of his hand. "Please James," he breathed almost inaudibly, hoping his brother was listening, and didn't hate him for what he was asking. "Please don't take him back yet."

###

A week and a half later, Harry was still in a magical coma. The Healers had informed Sirius that his Godson had all but depleted his core, and the coma was his body's last, desperate attempt to 'recharge' his magic, so to speak, but if his body couldn't handle the strain of supporting itself without the magic…

…Harry would die without waking.

Sirius hung stubbornly onto the thirty percent chance that Harry's body would support itself until his magic could replenish itself. He never left the hospital, enlarging the bed to sleep next to the teen, reminiscent of the time that Harry had taken a stunner to his chest, but this time he had managed to convince Remus to go home to his family; most nights, at least. The werewolf still spent a fair amount of nights on Harry's other side, and he and Tonks hadn't spent less than 12 hours a day, every day, in the room too. They argued that Andromeda was taking care of Teddy, while Remus forcefully reminded Sirius that Harry was his cub too; he could never forget his first cub because he had a cub of his own now.

Sirius talked to his pup until his throat was raw, every day. He told Harry about Remus and Tonks barely leaving, and about the constant stream of visitors that he had had to approve being allowed to come in. He told Harry about how the Weasleys had to be forcibly kicked out every day, especially Ron, the twins and Ginny, and how Hermione had restored her parents' memories, bringing them along for a visit on one of the days she had come. He told Harry that she, too, had been a daily visitor, along with Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus and Kingsley. He told him about Fawkes choosing Harry to bond as a Familiar to, and how the bird had been in and out, somehow finding its way to Harry's bedside more often than not, and never hunting for very long. He even told Harry about the surprise, and very awkward, visit from Draco, that hadn't lasted very long, but had ended with a surprisingly soft _'You'd better get up soon, Potter, or my father will hear about this'_ that Sirius hadn't had the heart to hex the blond for, sensing an inside joke and seeing the very real regret and concern in his scared eyes.

When no one else was around, Sirius told his Godson about how many times he had felt like a proud father to the strong, willful Gryffindor. He reiterated how much he loved Harry, and how honored and full of pride James and Lily would be of him. Instead of begging or pleading or threatening, he simply asked Harry to find his way back to them soon, because things were so much less fun without him around, and one night, after Harry had mysteriously flat-lined and been resuscitated, Sirius had both given and taken comfort by singing lowly, in a very soft voice, the lullaby he'd sung when Harry was a baby.

It was just shy of two weeks when Sirius got up the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

"Healer Ferris," he started hesitantly, gaining both the Healer's attention, and Remus', "Harry still hasn't woken, after almost two weeks, and even after Fawkes tried crying over him. What exactly…what does that imply about his chances?"

The brunette bit his lip, looking cautious. "It's difficult to say," he finally replied. "Your Godson is a remarkable case. Based on past cases, he should've either woken up by now, or…" he trailed off, not needing to complete the sentence.

"So," Remus took over, seeing Sirius' face whiten at the thought of the latter possibility, "would you say that it's a good sign Harry's held out this long?"

"I'm optimistic," Ferris replied with a slow nod. "He's fighting hard, and his magical core is already starting to recover. All that's left is for him to wake up, which he can only do once he feels safe enough to."

Sirius frowned in confusion. "Are you saying that the emotional trauma is all that's keeping Harry in this coma now?"

"It isn't as simple as we think it is," Ferris crossed his arms, sounding vaguely regretful. "I wish I could tell you that it would be as easy as convincing Harry the danger has passed, but it's also a case of Harry dealing with everything this war has cost him. His psyche will allow him to face the outside world, only once he has come to terms with all the turmoil inside him first. Which will also explain why the Phoenix tears didn't wake him. On the positive side, the longer he takes to wake, the more recharged his magical core will get."

"What is the negative side that you aren't telling us?" Remus asked flatly, only the pain in his eyes indicating how much it took for him to ask.

The Healer winced, his eyes clouding. "Given that it's a matter of the mind…" Ferris' voice was tentative, the most unsure they'd heard the man. "Well, there's no longer any guarantee that Harry _will_ wake."

###

"Don't you judge me, love," Sirius chided the still form softly, carding his fingers through messy black locks. "You would've hexed him too, if you were awake. Besides, I just turned his skin green, and Remus countered it before it could reach his face."

As he was every night, Sirius was answered with deafening silence. Determined not to let it get to him, the Auror swallowed hard, keeping up the motion of his fingers through Harry's hair. "You know, love," he continued conversationally, the old nickname a testament of how he was feeling, "the Weasley twins actually set off a couple of their own products to the Healers and nurses that told them to leave after visiting hours. Molly says it's a daily fight with them, and Ron and Ginny, because they want to bunk with you till you wake. Fred and George actually tried to recruit me today; George said that, as your big brothers, they had the right to stay and annoy you till you woke up." A small smile quirked his lips up as he remembered the four siblings' identical, pleading looks, and the heartfelt declaration the twins had given proclaiming Harry as much their brother as Ron was. "I don't actually think the twins have so much as cracked a smile since you fell. Hard to believe, huh, pup?"

Sirius' eyes fixed on Harry's chest where, underneath the blanket and the hospital robe, he was keenly aware of a new, raw, lightning-bolt scar that rested directly above the teen's heart.

"Also," he hastened to continue, without taking his eyes off Harry's chest, but not waiting for an answer, "I think little Teddy is getting impatient to meet you. Dora says that he got oddly excitable when he saw a picture of you in the Prophet yesterday; kept touching it and cooing. Started crying when Cousin Andy tried to take it away from him. He's a cute kid, but if I'm being honest, I don't think he's as cute as you were." He laughed lightly, a superficial sound that was as good as it would get until Harry woke. "You were the cutest baby ever, love. Your mother used to tease me and James because we could never sit still before, but we could watch _you_ for hours on end without even moving."

"I was an entertaining baby, then?"

"Oh, sure," the Auror answered with a soft grin, smoothing the covers of the bed down. "You were…"

Abruptly, Sirius realized that _he had gotten an answer._

He sat up with a start, to be met with the most amazing sight of green eyes sparkling with mirth, an amused, mischievous little smile on his Godson's face.

"Harry!" He yanked his Godson into his arms, cradling him desperately, his voice choked and rough. "Merlin, pup, you're... _awake_. You're finally awake. Do you have any idea how out of my mind I've been?!"

Hands grasped weakly at his shirt, oddly reminiscent of Harry as a baby. "I'm sorry, Siri," the teen apologized, his voice hoarse and scratchy from lack of use. "I…I thought…"

"Hush, love," Sirius soothed, a stray tear tracking down his cheek. "Everything's okay, now. It's all over. You're safe, we're all safe. You did it, love, you defeated him. You won."

A soft, tired smile accompanied a nod. "I know," Harry breathed sleepily. "Was with…mum and dad."

Sirius' breath caught. "What do you mean, pup?"

"They stayed with me," his Godson blinked owlishly, obviously coherent. "Till I could wake up. They told me it was over. Mum…Mum says thanks. That she loves you. Dad said that he…that he loves you like his brother, and it's okay to have me a while longer. Says he's going to prank you for eternity when he sees you though…for thinking he'd be mad at you for considering me your own. For wanting me to stay."

How…how could Harry know what he'd confessed to Remus? Unless…

The Auror fought to keep from hyperventilating. The reality that James wasn't mad at him, along with the messages from his beloved friends, his brother… and then the stark realization of how close to death Harry had actually been…it was almost more than he could handle. He had gotten through the two weeks convinced that his Godson would wake up. Now, he couldn't deny what a real possibility it was, that Harry might _not_ have.

As if sensing his distress, the teen huddled close to his chest, the way he used to when he was a toddler. Sirius wrapped his arms around his charge, calming himself down by matching his breathing to Harry's. It was only when his pup began to lean more heavily against him that Sirius realized he was falling back into unconsciousness.

"Harry!" he barked once, panicked. Harry's eyes snapped open sharply as the teen jerked back into wakefulness.

"Wh'appened?"

Calming his racing heart, Sirius sent his Godson an apologetic look. "Sorry, pup," he grimaced. "Scared me for a second there."

Understanding dawned, even in exhausted emerald orbs. "If I promise to wake up in the morning, can we both get some sleep?" The teen's tone was solemn and gentle.

Sirius pressed a kiss to his forehead, and then another to the crown of his head. "Only if you promise, puppy."

A sleep-softened grin graced Harry's features, as his eyelids fluttered closed tiredly. "I solemnly swear."

For the first time in 2 weeks, Sirius laughed.

A few minutes later, just before Sirius could succumb to his own fatigue, a quiet, almost child-like voice murmured.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius smiled without opening his eyes, and tucked his son, in all but blood, even tighter against his chest. "Alright Prongslet, it's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay."

###

A/N: Please let me know what you think, as this was the hardest chapter for me to write yet! Cheers!


	8. Of family and always staying

Disclaimer: Not mine, even after all my tireless attempts.

A/N: *gross sobbing* THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER!

Don't get me wrong, I tried a long time to think of a way to draw this story out, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how! I had an idea for this story, and this was the way it would end, and to add more would have really thrown things out of balance.

However! I'm unable to leave these characters alone. I'm going to try my hand at some other ideas I've had, showcasing the amazing characters that Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry Potter are, as seen in the dangerous place that is my head. I hope you guys will also check those out, once I post it!

On to the finale! This has been an amazing piece to write; please let me know if there's anything you would like me to write from this AU, as a one-shot, that won't be part of this piece, but will fall into the life I've created for our Marauders and the adorable Chosen One.

 _ **Special shout out to Alix33 for her reviews and corrections! Also, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and or favorited this fic! It meant so much to me, and if you're a guest who I couldn't send replies to, then thank you too!**_

 **NB! PLEASE READ TILL THE END, DESPITE WHAT YOU MAY THINK IN THE MIDDLE!**

Hope y'all enjoy!

###

 _ **May 16**_ _ **th**_ _ **1998**_

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You went into that forest _knowing_ you were a _horcrux_ , but _without_ knowing you could _survive_ the killing curse again. Then you saw _Dumbledore_ , who told you that our magical cores are powered by our innate beings. This prompted you to _**suppose**_ that your love could power your magic stronger, than Voldemort's hate could power his." Remus glared at Harry incredulously, the effect somewhat ruined by the tears swimming in his amber eyes. "You took on one of the most powerful Dark wizards of all time, _based on a_ _ **supposition**_?!" Without waiting for an answer, Remus continued his rant. "And then you go and put up this _ridiculously_ impenetrable shield, refusing the help of your _**guardians**_ , mind you, who are _far more_ qualified at dueling, and insisting on taking him on _**yourself**_ because of your _thrice-damned_ insistence to protect us all! But that wasn't the end of it! No, of _course_ not, why _would_ it be?! You just _had_ to go and damn near _empty_ your magical core, the very thing that _supports your_ _ **lifeline**_ , instead of simply using your powerful magic and deflecting Riddle's curse to rebound on to him! _Why_ , might one ask? Because your magic offered Riddle an ultimatum to either live and lose his magic, or die, and you just _had_ to give the _deranged psychopath_ one more chance to choose a better path, because you're _**so damned noble**_! Am I _forgetting_ anything?!"

There was a moment of total silence following the surprising outburst from the most logical Marauder, before the teenager offered Lupin a sheepish smile. "Well, you didn't mention Snape actually being a good guy because of loving my mum since forever."

Sirius shuddered with a scowl. "I think that was the part we were all trying to _forget_ , pup."

Remus all but ignored their light banter, yanking Harry into his arms much like Sirius had the night before. The werewolf choked back his tears, running his fingers through his cub's hair as if to try and reassure himself that Harry was alive and there.

"You scared me to death, cub," Rem whispered, pained. "You _scared_ me to _death_."

Harry hung on, burying his face in his surrogate uncle's robes. "I'm sorry, Remus. I'm _sorry_. I couldn't let him hurt any of you, more than he already has."

"What would we have done without you?" Lupin asked rhetorically, still grasping onto Harry with a desperation that Sirius knew well. "Can't lose you too, cub."

"I couldn't lose either of you too," Harry insisted stubbornly. "You both mean the world to me."

"And you mean _more_ than the world to us," Remus stated firmly, framing the teen's face with the palms of his hands. "You're my cub. I can't bear to lose you, and I know Sirius couldn't bear it either."

Harry nodded, as much as he could manage, tears glistening in his eyes. "I know."

Nodding slowly, the ex-professor brought his cub back into his arms, significantly gentler. "Then promise us you won't risk your life like that again. Promise us you'll let _us_ take care of _you_ from now on."

"I promise, Moony. I promise. And I'm sorry, okay?"

The werewolf simply nodded and pressed a rough kiss to Harry's temple, apparently unable to use his words, while Sirius watched on with fondness and a touch of amusement.

"Moony," he couldn't resist having a go at his friend, "you gave _me_ the whole spiel about keeping calm, but you were the one who took off with Harry, before grabbing him and getting hysterical about him waking up."

All Sirius saw was a flash of blue before his hair suddenly started growing rapidly, and turning bright pink as it did. With an undignified yelp, he lunged for his wand, tripping over the hair that was already grown till his ankles, amidst the loud, but admittedly beautiful, sound of his Godson's laughter.

"Don't worry, Rem," he heard Harry snicker as he cast a quick finite incantatem. "He was just as hysterical when I woke up the first time."

###

A few hours later, after an emergency trip to a barber and a stubborn Godson refusing to recuperate at Mungos, saw them all at home, settling Harry into his own bed as Remus cast the necessary monitoring charms that Healer Ferris insisted on having, as a precaution.

While a small fragment of him was concerned that Harry could recover better at the hospital, a larger, more selfish part of Sirius was absolutely delighted to have his pup home again. Potter Manor had felt like a cold and distant place without him; nothing more than walls and a bed; but with Harry back, the place took on a brighter aura. It was like life was restored to the Manor, that had been taken with Harry once he left. The house elves were certainly beside themselves with excitement, and for the first time, Sirius realized that they must have missed Harry just as much as he had. They had, after all, seen him grow up too.

For his part, Harry was being affable about the monitoring charms, and also seemed to just be glad to be home. Happiness peeked through the fatigue in his green eyes, dulled by the kind of year he had had, but present nonetheless. As the teen's gaze roved over the pictures he had along his table – of his parents, the Marauders, him and Sirius, him and Remus, and his own friends – it was obvious that he was simply relishing in being in a familiar place, safe and taken care of, without any threats over his head.

For someone who was never keen on following rules, Sirius followed the instructions for Harry's care to the letter. While this caused a lot of unrest – especially with the Weasley twins, Ron and Hermione when he timeously kicked them out to give Harry his rest – he refused to waver. His Godson's health was much more important than anything he was willing to gamble on.

After another three days, Ferris seemed pleased enough with the teen's progress to allow longer visits, and after a little manipulation courtesy of Harry's large green eyes, he also consented to a short visit with baby Teddy.

Remus was cautious, since his kid was apparently a fussy one, but that proved unwarranted. The moment little Teddy was cuddled against Harry's chest, he became all smiles, fingers reaching out to the teen in a way reminiscent of how his Godson used to act with Sirius himself, making the dog-animagus smile gently.

He watched while Harry held the baby close, ever so carefully, a soft and tender smile on his face as little Lupin cooed and gurgled happily. "Hey, Teddy-Bear," the teen murmured, love already present in his voice. "It's nice to finally meet you, kiddo. I'm your Godfather."

Affection flooded Sirius' chest as the words stirred a memory deep in the recesses of his mind…

" _You wanna hold him?"_

 _Sirius turned wide eyes on his best friend, still feeling bizarrely overwhelmed with emotion over the tiny bundle of blanket in his best friend's arms. "Are you mental?" he asked incredulously, nervous and eager in equal measure. "He's so tiny! I'll break him."_

 _James laughed, his eyes sparkling as he threw his head back. "You're not going to break him, Padfoot."_

" _You don't know that," the dog-animagus grumbled with a glare. "He's better off with you."_

 _Lily's voice cut across James' snickers. "You're Harry's Godfather, Sirius," the redhead smiled gently at him. "And looking at how worried you are over him, I know we made the right choice. You could never hurt him. So man up, Black! And hold your Godson."_

 _Sirius would have glared at his new sister, too, but before he could, Prongs carefully placed the tiny baby in the crook of his arms. Acting on an instinct he wasn't aware he had, Sirius automatically cradled his arms, bringing the baby close to his chest. The faint feel of a heartbeat against his arm, and the soft warmth that baby Prongs emitted, bowled Sirius over, but it was the big green eyes, as they opened and focused on him, that had the greatest effect._

 _Something powerful and burning swept over him then, like nothing he'd ever known or felt before. It took him a few minutes before he identified the foreign burst of emotion, as a mixture of fierce protectiveness, and ferocious love. Right in that moment, he swore to himself to protect and love Harry as much as he was able, and to give the kid every good part of himself that Sirius had left. He swore he would never allow any pain to come to the perfect, amazing bundle of pure joy, that was the beautiful baby in his arms. Nobody would ever hurt his Godson, just as long as he was around._

 _He wasn't even aware of Prongs and Lil anymore; his entire focus and attention was solely on the almost questioning eyes of his Godson. His throat dried up and emotion clogged his throat, and for a single moment, he allowed himself to accept the inherent feeling that Harry was his, as much as the baby was James'._

" _Hello, love," he whispered, still barely cognizant of the audience he had. "Nice to finally meet you. I'm your Godfather." To his delight, the baby gurgled, as if to answer. "That's right," he beamed, laughing breathily, feeling ridiculously happy. "I'm the one who gets to spoil you rotten."_

 _Baby Harry cooed, the most adorable sound, and Sirius was instantly lost._

 _He finally looked up, meeting James' teasing smirk and Lily's understanding smile. "He's amazing," he breathed, still unable to conjure up any playful or offhand rejoinder. "Are you sure…"_

" _Sirius." The use of his first name stopped him; James only ever used it when he was being totally serious. Sure enough, the hazel eyes he knew so well, now looked affectionately stern. "We're positive. It's like Lil said; looking at you now, with Harry, it's obvious we couldn't have made a better choice for his Godfather."_

 _Padfoot grinned broadly at his brother, his family, before turning back to the precious bundle in his arms. He brushed his nose ever so gently against Harry's, earning another little coo as the baby threw tiny fists out to him._

" _Looks like you're stuck with me, pup."_

Now, even as he looked at the seventeen-year-old, he could still see the baby with sparkling green eyes and the most infectious giggle, that could fit in the crook of his arms.

He was wrenched back into the present when Harry laughed as Teddy grabbed hold of his finger in one little palm. "I don't see how you could possibly think I was cuter than _this_ , Sirius," his Godson fawned over the baby.

"It's true," he grinned at his charge, "you had that happy, loving baby thing going for you. Made you awesome to babysit. Moony here just won't admit it; he's biased because he's got his Dad-glasses on."

Harry snorted indelicately. "Maybe _you're_ the one who's biased, because _you've_ got _your_ Dad-glasses on."

Never mind how many times his pup acknowledged it, it still made his chest almost burst with love and warmth with every reminder of how Harry saw him as a father. It took him a few moments to dim his smile from the sunny, thousand-watt grin he produced at first. "Trust me, kid. You had all of us wrapped around your finger since Day One."

"I think both of you have equal cuteness, cub," Remus said diplomatically, a grin on his face that made him look years younger. "Padfoot was probably the only baby that wasn't cute."

"Definitely," Sirius nodded solemnly. "I was born drop-dead gorgeous, not cute. No really," he grinned roguishly as Harry chuckled and Remus rolled his eyes, "the medi-witch that delivered me? First thing out of her mouth was 'Walburga, your kid is already a sexy beast'."

"No lies around my kid," Tonks declared, flopping down next to Harry on the bed, ruffling his hair absentmindedly. "It's bad enough you got to my little brother before I could do anything about it."

"Hey, Harry's _my_ kid," Sirius objected without thinking. "And I'm pretty bloody proud with the way he turned out."

It took a few beats before Sirius realized exactly what he said, and once he did, he froze in his tracks. He had always been so careful never to say something like that, never to make Harry feel like he had to choose between Sirius and James, or like Sirius was trying to take James' place…but since nearly losing him, it was like a switch had been turned in the Auror's head. No part of him could deny that Harry was his, in his heart, just like he couldn't ignore what Harry had said during the final battle. But that didn't give him the right to expect the same from his charge.

His head whipped to his Godson's, half-dreading, expecting to see anger on the teen's face.

Not so.

Harry was positively beaming.

"One could argue," Remus interjected, with a smug, but understanding little smile, "that Harry turned out that way thanks to my influence."

Harry just smiled, turning his face to focus on Teddy, who was shrieking happily, beyond pleased to have gained the teen's attention again. "I don't know, Rem," he said lightly, feigning indifference as he tickled Teddy, but Sirius could hear the undertone of peaceful happiness. "You can never underestimate a Dad's influence."

###

"Sit." Remus pointed his finger sternly in the direction of the dining room table. " _Eat_. Harry will be fine if you leave him for more than twenty minutes." After a moment, the werewolf softened. "He's _home_ , Padfoot. He's safe here. Everything is okay."

Sirius glared at his friend mutinously. "What if the monitoring charms go off and we don't hear it because you think I need to have a meal at the table, rather than the _perfectly_ _good_ armchair next to Harry's bed?"

"Dusty is keeping an eye out," his old friend countered firmly. "He'll let us know if Harry needs us."

"What if Dusty isn't paying attention?"

"That house elf worships Harry. He wouldn't get distracted from taking care of him if he was threatened with clothes."

"What if Harry feels bad and tells Dusty to get some rest, because he still puts everyone above himself?"

"Then Dusty will tell us first, and we'll ask Clover to watch Harry."

"What if Clover…"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Sirius!" Remus finally huffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Everyone in the Manor is watching out for Harry just the same as you. We all love him, so it's not up to you alone to care for him."

The Auror sighed cavernously. "I know that, Rem. You think I don't know how much you love Harry? How much the Potter elves _adore_ him? It isn't about that."

The two Marauders looked at each other for a minute, a silent stare-off. Eventually, it was Lupin who broke.

"Then what _is_ it about, Pads?" His voice was a curious mix of weary and gentle. "I know it's not that you don't trust anyone but yourself to watch him."

"I promised myself I was never going to allow anything to hurt Harry," Sirius whispered, self-recrimination in his tone. "How many times have I broken that promise, Rem? How much has Harry had to face, because I was such a poor stand-in for James and Lily?" He dropped his face into his hands. "Prongs would _hate_ me for everything I let happen to Harry."

There was no response for a moment, before Remus smacked him soundly across the back of his head.

"What the fuck, Rem?" he yelped, rubbing the stinging spot.

"You were being an idiot," the werewolf replied calmly. "James made it a point to ask Harry to tell you, that he loves you like a brother. You think he would have hesitated to send a fully-fledged rant with Harry instead, if he hated you?"

Sirius snorted, imagining James instructing Harry on getting the voice inflections and questionable hand gestures right.

"And for that matter," Remus continued, "do you think Lily would have sent her love and thanks, if she blamed you for what happened to her baby?"

"Fair point," Sirius nodded, conceding. Lily was scarier than a mother bear when her baby boy was concerned. "Even so, Rem. With everything Harry has been through…I reckon there's going to be a nasty aftermath. The nightmares, the flashbacks…I can't keep them away, but I can be there so that he doesn't have to face them a second time, _alone_."

Whether an agreement or an argument was forthcoming from his old friend, Sirius never found out, because in that moment, both Marauders noticed a glowing orb on the dining room table.

"It's a Rec-Orb," Remus muttered, a confused frown on his face as he eyed the shining teal ball. "It's similar to a Howler, only there's no time limit on opening it, and it shows a projection of the person who sent the message." At Sirius' puzzled look, the werewolf elaborated. "It's sort of like that Muggle video recorder Lily showed us. It records the sender, saying the message, then it self-delivers based on an address the sender inputs."

"Ah," he nodded in comprehension, remembering how fascinated he and James had been with the contraption. James had used entire tapes, recording extravagant confessions of his undying love for her, while Sirius mocked and laughed in the background. "Why is it glowing?"

"It glows blue when there's a recorded message on it," came the answer, without hesitation. "If there was no message yet, it would have been green."

Sirius looked at Remus, momentarily sidetracked. "How is it you know so much about these things?"

"I actually pay attention to the salespeople when I go to Diagon," Lupin said somewhat pompously. He looked haughty for a moment, before dropping the act and grinning mischievously at Sirius. "Late night infomercials on WWN," he admitted good-naturedly. "I thought the rec _ **ord**_ and Rec- _ **Orb**_ pun was particularly amusing."

Letting out a bark of laughter that sounded a lot like his canine counterpart, Sirius approached the table. "It's addressed to both of us," he observed, forcing a casual tone and trying to ignore the sickened feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. "Harry's writing."

"Harry's?" He could hear the tension re-entering Lupin's voice, making it taut. After a beat, his friend was next to him, staring at the scrap of parchment that neither of them had dared touch. "He must have sent it before…well, everything."

They stood in silence, both staring at the Rec-Orb as though it were some kind of trap. "I want to hear it," Sirius said finally, reaching a hand out.

"Wait!" Remus grabbed his wrist just before he could touch the shiny globe. "Maybe we shouldn't. Whatever it is…Harry would have told us if it still mattered."

Sirius shook his head stubbornly. "I want to hear it, Rem. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore, but if I'm going to help him heal, I need all the information I can get."

Maybe Remus hadn't needed much convincing, or maybe Sirius had just given a really good argument, but for whatever the reason, the werewolf didn't object a second time. Without a word, he removed his grip on Sirius' wrist, bracing himself as though he were expecting a blow.

Unsure exactly how to activate it, the Auror simply brushed his fingers against it, surprised when the sphere flashed a darker blue and projected a life-size version of Harry next to them, against the backdrop of the headmaster's office.

Except, the projection-Harry still had the cuts and bruises and scrapes, courtesy of the Battle of Hogwarts, scattered across his body. Not as much as there had been, but enough to know that Harry had probably recorded this sometime during the fight. The only time he had been alone, had been when…

 _No._

Sirius realized Harry's intention a split second before the projection began to speak.

" _Hi…um, I'm not entirely sure how to use this,"_ Projection-Harry gave a sheepish little huff of laughter that, to the trained ears of his Godfather, held faint traces of hysteria. _"It was sort of an impulse buy, after Dumbledore's funeral. Never thought I'd actually use it. But then…also never really thought this was how it would end."_

Next to him, Remus sucked in a harsh breath, and it took all Sirius had not to smash the orb, in an effort to hide from the fact that his Godson had faced certain Death.

" _It's just,"_ Projection-Harry continued, oblivious to their agony, _"Dumbledore never told me, you know? He told me about the horcruxes, and everything, but…not this. Not that…I_ _ **was**_ _one."_ The teen's pain was palpable, even in the mere hologram of himself. _"But it's…well, it's not_ _ **alright**_ _, really…but it isn't that bad either."_ Projection-Harry's voice turned earnest, a hint of pleading there too. _"I've lived much longer than ol' Moldy thought I would, I expect! And I did as much as I could for this war. This will be my last move. The sacrifice before the checkmate. I'll be protecting the lives of the innocents…the lives of the people I love, more than anything. It's not a bad way to die."_

Sirius gripped the edge of the table, tears stinging the back of his eyes.

" _I'm sending you both this, because there are some things I need to tell you,"_ Projection-Harry straightened, looking determined. _"First of all, I don't want either of you blaming yourselves. This was my decision, and my decision only. I couldn't let him hurt any more people – I couldn't let him hurt either of_ _ **you**_ _– and I needed to get rid of the horcrux inside of me too. It was the best plan I had in the moment, since time was running out, and I made a move. That's on me."_ A pained look crossed his features. _"I can only hope everything worked out, and you two are safe now, without a threat hanging over your heads."_

"Oh Harry, cub…" Remus whispered, sounding hurt.

Sirius remained quiet, his normally bright face now ashen.

" _So to recap,"_ Projection-Harry forced a playful tone, _"no unnecessary guilt or I'll haunt the lot of you!"_ The effect the teen was going for – light and accepting, in the name of reassurance – was more or less obliterated when his bottom lip quivered and his voice trembled ever so slightly.

Though Sirius knew it was a recording, he ached to reach out and pull his Godson into his arms, wipe the tears away, ease the ache that Harry had faced alone, trying desperately to be strong for them.

" _You guys are allowed to be sad for me,"_ Projection-Harry spoke quietly, his voice small. _"To miss me. But just…remember, okay? Remember that I fought both the Light and the Dark, and I've sacrificed whatever I've had that was mine to sacrifice, to be with you both as long as I have been. But I can't sacrifice you two, or any more of the innocent people in the Great Hall right now, who have already seen too much from this war."_

The two remaining Marauders watched as the recording of their charge slowly composed himself. Neither of them could look at the other, let alone try to speak the thoughts that were running through their minds.

" _That aside,"_ Projection-Harry was more subdued now, a solemn look upon his face, _"I've got something to say to each of you. Thank you, Remus; you've always been like a favorite uncle to me; you've been my teacher in more ways than one. You've showed me how to be strong in the face of the world's expectations, and you made me stronger and better for knowing you. Thank you for choosing me to be Teddy's Godfather, and I'm sorry I let you down, but please take care of yourself and give my Godson the kind of life you've helped give me, and even more."_

Remus sank into a chair, sobbing silently, letting out everything he had bottled up since he saw Harry lying still in Hagrid's arms. For his part, Sirius was frozen to the spot, transfixed upon the hologram of his Godson, looking like he was about to face a firing squad.

" _And Sirius."_ Even Projection-Harry cringed at the soft and agonized lilt his tone had taken on. _"Siri…how do I even find the words? My gratitude to you, and how much I love you…I don't have the words that would describe all that. I'd ask Hermione,"_ he laughed a little, thickly, _"but I don't think that's a good idea right now. Since as far back as I can remember, you've been there. You've chased away fears and soothed bad dreams. You've healed hurts and taught me right from wrong. You've listened to whatever I had to say, always, and you never made me feel like I was anything less than the most important thing in the world to you. You've given me advice, you've taught me confidence and strength and bravery, and you've lent me all of those, too, when I was coming up short."_ Tears flowed freely from his eyes now, and Sirius was no better. _"You told me bedtime stories and tucked me in, and in 17 years…Sirius, you've always_ _ **stayed.**_ _You've always stayed with me when I needed you, whether I knew I needed you, or not. You're my father in all the ways it counts, Siri. I couldn't imagine a better role model, or person, and I consider myself so lucky to have you. I'll spend all the time until I see you again, thanking my parents for giving me you. Please take care of yourself, and live the life that you put on hold, for my sake. The life you left so that you could give me my life. And at every turn, remember that I love you more than I ever knew how to express, and I'm so proud to call you my father."_ Losing his battle with composure, Projection-Harry choked out through his sobs, _"Love you, Dad."_

Abruptly, the recording ended and the blue sphere sucked the projection back in. The ball sat harmlessly on the table, no indicator of the emotional carnage it had left in its wake, and the room was bathed in silence as two men sobbed the tears neither had allowed themselves the proper time to feel.

Sirius felt like his heart had been ripped in two. One part was glowing with an almost painful happiness at the love his Godson had for him, while the other part wished desperately that there was anything he could have done to prevent his precious kid from going through that.

"He really…" Remus' hoarse voice filled the previously still air. "He really thought…he was going to d-die…didn't he?"

Unable to say the words, Sirius simply nodded, fighting against the anguish and striving to remember that his brave little Godson was safe upstairs, in his room.

They had gotten through the horrific ordeal.

Voldemort was dead, and Harry was safe.

Everything was okay.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius faced his old friend, not bothering to hide his torment from him, knowing he was going through something similar. "Moony?"

"I think that the armchair next to Harry's bed is comfortable enough. Don't spill food, and you can take the empty spot next to him on the bed."

###

Sirius' eyes fluttered open to be greeted with an overabundance of white.

 _St Mungos,_ his tired mind produced, after a few moments of confusion. _'M back at Mungos. But…why?_

Forcing his aching body into an upright position, he scanned the room around him, wondering why it looked so familiar. Once again, it took a little longer for his befuddled mind to catch up, but once it did, he recognized the room as Harry's; at least, the room Harry had occupied when he was in his coma.

The still-enlarged bed was empty, save for him. Did that mean that something had happened to him? Was he the one being treated this time? But, for what?

The last thing he remembered was carding his hand through Harry's hair, trying to calm himself down after watching Harry's goodbye message. His Godson hadn't even stirred – deeply unconscious, thanks to the cocktail of potions he had to drink to speed up his recovery – and after a few hours, Remus had finally gathered up enough strength to leave the teen's bedside.

Sirius had urged his old friend back home, knowing that the werewolf had hardly seen Teddy since Harry had been out of hospital. After some arguing back and forth, Remus had finally relented, and Sirius must have fallen asleep a little ways after that, since he had no such illusion that he would be able to sleep without proof of his Godson, alive and breathing, right next to him.

Which still didn't explain what he was doing in Mungos.

It also didn't explain why the room looked _exactly_ the same way it looked when Harry had been here, down to the Get-Well-Soon balloons the Grangers had brought, and the countless prank products the twins had come with, every day that they visited.

"Padfoot?" a raw and scratchy voice brought Sirius out of his jumbled thoughts. Remus stood in the doorway, looking decades older than Sirius had ever seen him, his eyes red and his posture defeated.

"Moony." A certain measure of relief came from his old friend's presence, despite the worrying appearance of the werewolf. "You wanna explain to me what I'm doing here?"

Pity spread across his features. "Don't you remember, Pads?" The utmost gentleness in his tone, and the soft devastation in his eyes made Sirius' heart stop. Remus hadn't treated him like this since James and Lily's funeral. "Har-…" Lupin's voice broke, and his face creased in agony. "He was in a magical coma," he finally choked out.

The confusion and dread in Sirius' stomach multiplied ten-fold. "I _know_ ," he nodded, a bite of impatience in his voice. "Harry woke up in the night, I went hysterical. _You_ came in the morning, _you_ went hysterical. We took him home, he met Teddy, we saw his Rec-Orb, camped in his room, you left, I fell asleep, and then I woke up here." He took a gulp of breath, fighting against his panic. "What I don't know, is how I ended up here."

Remus looked thoroughly confused. "What do you mean, he woke up in the night? Because the last time I saw you both was yesterday, before I left home. You were sleeping next to him. He never met Teddy, and Rec-Orbs stopped selling years ago."

Sirius shook his head almost frantically. "Stop it, Remus," he snapped, coldness permeating his bones. "He woke up, he spoke to me! To both of us! Why don't you remember?"

"If he woke up, why didn't you call a Healer?" Lupin's voice was becoming angry now. "If you'd just called a Healer, then maybe Ha-…maybe he'd…"

"Why won't you say his name?" Sirius swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting up and stumbling slightly before catching hold of his friend's robes desperately. "Why won't you say ' _Harry'_?"

All of the anger seemed to drain from Lupin as Sirius said Harry's name. Sheer torment came back into the amber eyes, the anguish almost palpable. In the next moment, the Auror found himself wrapped in a strong, almost suffocating hug.

"Rem?" he asked in a small voice. "What's going on?"

Lupin pulled back slowly, tears streaking his face. "Ha-Harry never woke up from his coma, Padfoot," the werewolf forced the words from his throat, sounding like each of them cut him raw. "He…he never woke up. He…passed away, last night. In his sleep."

"No." Sirius wrenched himself away from his friend, shaking his head violently. "No, he didn't. He promised he'd wake up if I let him get some sleep. And he did. He came _home_ , Moony. Why can't you remember?"

"Sirius…"

But he had heard enough. Pushing past Remus, he made to leave the room, intent on finding Harry and grounding him for going along with Lupin on this ridiculous prank. Then, after he scolded his pup, they could plan appropriate revenge on Moony.

And find his Godson, he did.

Harry was still and small, so similar to how he looked in a coma, with the very conspicuous difference of how very pale he was. His skin was almost translucent, and all around his hospital bed, people were in various states of devastation.

Ron and Hermione were openly crying in each other's arms, looking too torn apart to even bother with composure. Ginny seemed to be in a similar state, being comforted by a stoic Bill, whose eyes were the only indicator of the agony he seemed to be feeling. Tonks had her head buried next to Harry's arm, sobbing harshly, and the Weasley twins, who were always full of jokes and comforting humor, looked much like they did after learning of Charlie's death – like they would never laugh again. They were gripping each other's shoulders, drawing strength from the other, while crying silently.

Sirius couldn't have asked for more damning proof than Remus standing next to him, gripping his shoulder. And suddenly, the normally calm, controlled Marauder broke down into inconsolable sobs.

With that, came the realization.

Everything had been some sort of vivid dream.

Harry hadn't come home.

He hadn't made it out of Mungos.

He was… _gone_.

All around him, the world shattered, and Sirius dropped to his knees with an anguished scream.

###

"SIRI, WAKE UP!"

The Auror sucked in a breath, gasping breathlessly as his eyes snapped open. Reflexively, he flew into a sitting position, head swinging around wildly in an attempt to identify his surroundings.

Gryffindor red and gold.

Quiddich themed curtains.

Firebolt in the corner.

A framed photo of the Marauders, Lily, and a baby Harry on the bedside.

 _Harry's room._

As soon as he realized that, he became aware of an insistent tugging on his left sleeve. "It's okay, Siri," a familiar voice soothed him, rough from sleep. "It was just a nightmare. We're okay."

In the next second, he had his precious Godson scooped up into his arms, pulled into a fierce hug. Harry didn't resist, or even seem very surprised, but instead of questioning it, Sirius just held on tighter, trying to convince himself that Harry was _here_ , he was _alive_ , that he had just had an _awful_ _dream_ …

"What in Merlin's name!" Harry yelped, swatting Sirius' hand away when the dog-animagus pinched himself hard. "What are you playing at, Padfoot?!"

"Lily once told us to do that, to check that we weren't still dreaming," he explained, his voice sounding thick, even to his own ears. "I had to make sure. I couldn't…I couldn't _lose_ you again, pup."

After a few beats, Harry murmured, "You saw the Rec-Orb."

"Yes, love," he nodded softly, although it had seemed to be more of a statement than a question. "How did you know?"

"Well," his pup gave a weak smirk, "you're sleeping in my bed, for one, which you haven't done since the battle at the DOM."

He smiled half-heartedly in return, still fighting to get the image of a dead Harry out of his brain. It was okay, however, since his Godson apparently didn't need an answer.

The teen reached out carefully and pulled Sirius' arm, maneuvering the Auror into a sleeping position, coaxing his head against the pillow. He moved obligingly, numbed by confusion at the actions, and his confusion only increased when Harry snuggled into him, cushioning his head against Sirius' chest.

His pup hadn't slept like this since he was a toddler.

Nevertheless, he wrapped his arms around the teen, fingers finding their way to card through messy black locks.

After a few minutes, Harry seemed to be falling asleep, and with one last stab at getting an answer, Sirius breathed, "Prongslet?"

Like clockwork, his sleepy charge murmured a reply.

"Alright, Padfoot, it's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay."

###

Sirius slept the rest of the night, knowing that no matter what, the both of them?

They would always stay.

###

A/N: Please, for the last time in this work, hit that little review button, and let me know that this wasn't a flop, yeah?

Thank you, and thanks for the support over the course of this story!

Xoxo


	9. Of heads up to awesome readers!

Not a chapter update!

I'm sorry, but this story is finished, however…

I'd like to continue something in the 'verse!

So this is just a heads-up to all you lovely people who followed, favourited and/or reviewed this story! Another story in the 'verse is about to be posted, called _I'll Remain (Even After You Go)_ and I hope y'all will check it out! 

Thanks again to everyone who enjoyed this story! Drop me a line if there's something else you want to see in this 'verse!

Cheers!

-Marissa xoxo


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